


Wayward

by TwistedOver



Category: Supernatural, Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Win!Sister - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 99,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27313609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedOver/pseuds/TwistedOver
Summary: Left in charge of Sam while her dad and Dean are off on a hunt, Sarah Winchester soon discovers that Forks isn't without monsters of its own.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Edward Cullen/Original Character(s), Edward Cullen/Original Female Character(s), Edward Cullen/Win!Sis, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale
Comments: 157
Kudos: 177





	1. Forks

The old pickup grumbled as I shifted the clutch and pressed on the gas. The Impala ahead of us climbed the steep hillside with far more ease. Leaning forward, I willed the truck to keep up.

It wasn’t necessary. Even if we were separated, Forks wasn’t hard to find. The small Washington town was one of less than half a dozen that dotted the interstate between Bogachiel State Park and Port Angeles. Still, I was loathed to lose sight of the Impala before I absolutely had to.

As the truck crested the hillside, rumbling crankily, static began to creep into the radio. A long-limbed, bony hand dropped like a hammer onto the dashboard. The static took over the signal entirely, and I shot an annoyed side-eye to the gangly fifteen-year-old boy in the passenger seat.

Sam frowned before delivering another hit. The alt-rock station came back clear, blasting Incubus through the speakers. Settling back into the seat, his sights drifted back out the window.

I wasn’t sure what he was seeing. Couldn’t be the same trees that passed without pause to either side of the two-lane highway. Like silent green sentinels they towered above the road and hid the land deeper within in darkness. The sky overhead was dim and grey, as if a fog had risen and now conspired with the clouds to keep out the sun.

Whatever it was Sam was dreaming about, he kept it to himself.

It was another fifteen minutes before a wooden sign welcoming us to the township of Forks appeared off the side of the road. “Looks like we’re here.”

Sam blinked, his eyes refocusing on the sign as he straightened out of his slouch. We were both peering out the windshield with interest as the first set of buildings appeared on the horizon. They didn’t look much different from the other houses we’d passed outside of the state park. Mid-fifties two stories, in various shades of blues, whites, and greys, with mowed yards and a truck in the driveway.

The interstate transformed into the main road. As we drove further into town, commercial buildings cropped up. A small corner diner, a squat bank sitting beside a warehouse thrift store. A row of brick and mortar shops.

We followed the Impala as it turned off the street and into a residential area. Here were more mid-century houses. There weren’t a lot of fences to be found, but that was likely because the yards themselves were huge. I was willing to bet most of the folks around town owned riding mowers. The houses were well-kept, but not terribly large. Twisting around a few corners, a few minutes and the Impala pulled into the empty driveway of another mid-century halfway down F Street.

Sam’s eyes were big and round as they took in the white two-story. I shifted into park and joined him for a moment.

It was narrow in front, lacking a covered porch like the neighboring house, but sporting several dormers and a tended line of waist-high shrubs. The garage bunched up beside the main house like an addition that had been tacked on after the fact. Aside from needing a fresh coat of paint, it looked in decent condition from the curb, if a bit plain.

The creaking of doors opening from the Impala drew my attention back to the driveway. Dean was the first out, taking a second to stretch his back as he looked around. He shut the door and turned to amble back towards us. Dad was slower. Seeming content to set an arm across the top of the driver side door and study the house.

A slap against the Ford’s hood demanded my attention. “Let’s go kids.”

Sam and I shot equally affronted glares in Dean’s direction. He chuckled before knocking his knuckles against my window as he passed, heading to the truck bed.

“He’ll be gone tomorrow,” Sam reassured himself.

My sights slid away from the long stretch of our new, tree-lined yard to spy Sam still glaring out the back window at Dean. I blew out an annoyed breath and shoved the driver door open without comment. Sometimes I thought Sam would be happy to see the backs of all of us.

I was halfway down the truck bed when a duffle came flying at me. “OOF!” I had to hurry to juggle the bag stuffed with all my clothes before it dropped to the ground.

“Think fast.” Dean wore his typical shit-eating grin.

My glare didn’t do jack against it. “Screw you.”

“Language,” Dean reprimanded, laughter in his voice. He reached over and pulled up another duffle. From the sound of metal clanking within, it was the weapon’s bag. I braced myself, but Dean let it fall to his side.

“Ass.”

“Brat.”

“Enough.” The sparkle didn’t quite leave Dean’s eyes as Dad passed. “Get those bags inside.” A set of keys sailing through the air accompanied the order.

Dean caught them with barely a glance. “Yes sir.” He hefted another bag over the side of the truck bed and sauntered off towards the front door. I followed after.

It took a moment for Dean to unlock both the deadbolt and the doorknob. The front entrance groaned open.

It was dim inside with the lights off and curtains closed. Despite that, a hardwood floor creaked underfoot. A sectional was pressed against the far wall, a sixty-inch television seated across the way. An arrangement of photographs hung from the wall that separated the room from what looked like a dining room beyond a square archway. A few lay-z-boy recliners and a coffee table made up the rest of the room’s furnishings.

“Nice place.”

Dean’s approval met with a rumbled hum from Dad as he crossed the threshold. “It’ll do.”

Dean and I exchanged a glance before Dean shrugged Dad’s comment off.

“And this old buddy of yours won’t mind that it’s just a couple of teens?” I checked.

Dad let his duffle drop in front of the couch. “They’re too grateful someone will be around to look after the place while they’re gone to worry over particulars.”

“Wintering in Florida.” Dean dropped his bags off beside Dad’s.

“Perks of retirement,” Dad replied, gaze flickering over the photographs.

All part of a normal life. But you didn’t need a normal life to visit the sunshine state. I’d been to Florida plenty of times even though Dad still had training wheels on me. Salt and burns, mostly. Always supervised by either himself or Dean.

But I was at an age where he’d let Dean start helping on bigger hunts. Shifters and werewolves and the like. Even so, he still had me watching after Sam. Story of my life, really. I had to look after my little brother while Dean got to tag along.

Speak of the devil, Sam picked that moment to come in and join us. His eyes rounded minutely as he took a quick visual sweep of the living room. “This is great!” His sights drifted towards the stairs. “Bedrooms upstairs?”

“You know as much as me,” Dad answered, journal already open on the coffee table.

“Better grab a good one before the Princess plants her bag down,” Dean advised, throwing a quick smirk in my direction.

I rolled my eyes as Sam glanced my way before practically running for the staircase. I didn’t care which room I ended up in. It’d be my own.

While Sam’s footsteps creaked around upstairs, I turned back to Dad. “When you leavin’?”

“First thing tomorrow morning,” he answered, attention fixed on his journal. I nodded anyway.

“Have fun at school,” Dean teased.

“Have fun sleeping on the ground,” I shot back.

Dean shrugged, Dad’s old leather jacket shifting higher up his shoulders. He was making out like it was no big thing but going more than a few days without a mattress was going to suck, and we both knew it.

Still, I was jealous Dean got to go. Not that I’d admit it to him. It sounded like a good case—bodies dropping in remote areas so far out of the way they’d have to hike a day or more to reach most of ‘em. Dad had theories but wasn’t sure what it was doing the killing. Given the miles long trail you could trace between kills, the thing doing it was on the move.

Because of the constant travel in the more remote areas of wilderness the case required, Dad decided Sam and I would stay put. In the meantime, he and Dean would track down the monster or monsters hunting in the Pacific Northwest. Originally, we were going to stay in yet another roadside motel, but Bobby sent word to Dad that an old marine buddy of theirs was looking for a house sitter. Far as Sam and I were concerned, a little luck had finally come our way.

I caught a peak of the dining room that opened up to a narrow kitchen before taking the staircase up to the second story. At the top, a long hall led to a set of doors on either side. More family photographs greeted me from the walls. I opened the first door to the right and found a decent-sized bathroom. Across the way, a small office. Of the final two doors, I could hear Sam shifting around in the room facing the street. That left the remaining one for me to check out.

It was probably the smaller of the two, judging by the fact that not much apart from the twin bed and short dresser would fit inside it. The room was painted a neutral white, and apart from a bible passage hanging above an old wooden headboard, nothing about it had much of a personality to speak of. Guestroom, most like.

That suited me fine.

I swung my duffle atop the made-up bed and stepped past its foot to the room’s one window. Pressing a light rose curtain aside, I ended up looking out towards a spacious backyard. There was a stone circle for a firepit near a big cement patio. Further on down, ‘bout an acre or so, sat a good-sized shed that probably held the riding mower. Beyond that was the forest that seemed to creep in from every corner of the small town.

The staircase creaked under booted footsteps. Wasn’t long after that I heard dad’s low voice as he conversed with Sam. Couldn’t make out what was said, which was a solid point to the house’s construction. The walls must’ve been well insulated.

A few minutes later, the bootsteps crossed the hall and the door to the room opened with a light whine from the hinges. “Looks nice.”

I let the curtain fall and turned. With a couple days’ worth of growth on his face and clothes that hadn’t met an iron in decades, Dad should’ve been the definition of disheveled. Somehow, he wasn’t. Maybe it was in the way he held himself, a remnant of his time in the Navy. Maybe it was the shrewdness in his gaze. Whatever the magic, John Winchester had an air of command about him.

Or maybe that was just a dad thing.

“It’ll do.”

An amused curl lifted his lips slightly before they settled back into their usual serious line. “You realize this might take a while.”

I hopped down onto the bed, feeling the mattress’ give in a few experimental bounces. “Yeah,” I said, glancing back up.

Dad hmm’d at me.

Outside, a starting engine suddenly loosed a growl before settling into a rumbling purr. The Impala. “What’s that?” I asked as it started to move away from the house.

“Told your brother to pick up dinner. Nothing much in the fridge.” Dad fixed me with a hard stare. “You’ll have to go grocery shopping when your done with school.”

My nose wrinkled. “Like, to cook?”

“Just grab some tv dinners,” he advised. “Stuff for sandwiches.”

“Alright.”

Dad nodded. “I’ll leave you to get settled. Come on down once Dean’s back for supper.”

“Yes, sir.”

The door closed, and left to my own devices again, I pulled over the duffle. My handgun greeted me from atop a pile of folded t-shirts and flannels. That went under the pillow. The rest wasn’t much to speak of. Enough stuff to mix and match for a week and a half before we’d hunt down some laundromat. I hung what there was from the modest closet hiding behind the sliding double doors.

That done, I ventured out to the bathroom. It’d been a long drive without much in the way of breaks in between. Afterwards, there wasn’t much to do beyond wash my hands and wander back downstairs.

Sam was already lounging in one of the recliners, feet up, television turned to the discovery channel. I slapped his worn sneakers as I passed by. “Shoes off.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam toed them to the floor with a couple of thuds.

I sat next to Dad on the couch. He had a map of one of the state’s many parks open, red circles marking where the dead hikers and hunters had been found. Looking, once again, for a pattern.

I turned back to the television. No point wondering what that pattern might be. It wasn’t my hunt.

Between the all-day drive and the nature program, I was drowsing by the time Dean came back with pizza. A couple of slices didn’t do much to keep my energy up. I was back upstairs and changed into my nightshirt and shorts despite the fact it was barely past eight.

I planned to be up early to see Dean and Dad off, anyhow.

It didn’t take more than two minutes to salt the window. Hitting the light switch drowned the room in darkness. The moon was as hidden as the sun had been. Fortunately, there wasn’t much in the way of furnishings to navigate around and I found the edge of the bed with ease. I double-checked for my handgun. My muscles relaxed at the light brush of cool metal against my fingertips.

I let the sound of the television carry me off to sleep.


	2. Shadows

It was still dark outside when a knock woke me. Hand slipping under the pillow and curling around the gun’s grip, I rolled over until I was facing the direction of the door. “Yeah?”

Dad’s voice rumbled through the wood. “It’s time.”

Hand sliding off the gun, I sat up and stretched my arms and upper back. “Okay,” I yawned.

I ran a hand down my face as his booted steps thumped across the hall. I had my blanket thrown back and my feet wriggling against the cold floor by the time I heard him murmuring to Sam. The fine hairs on my arms lifted against the morning chill.

Rubbing my biceps, I eased out of bed and across the room to the door. I found Dad passing by on the other side, sparing a brief nod to me on the way. I followed, momentarily blinded when he flicked on the hall light before taking the steps.

The lights were already on downstairs. Outside, the trunk of the Impala banged shut. Sam was wandering down the stairs as Dean pulled open the front door, breath misting before him as he stepped inside.

Shrugging into his coat, Dad said, “Sarah’s in charge.” As Dad’s sights zeroed in on him, Sam nodded. “The school has Bobby’s number.” That Bobby Singer had Dad’s went unsaid.

As soon as Dad settled into his coat, I crossed the few steps between us and wrapped him in the tightest hug I could manage. “Be careful.”

His arms squeezed me in turn. “You be good.”

As we parted, Dad shifted towards Sam. Sam met his hug halfway. When they parted, Dad swept his sights between us. “You two look after each other, you hear?”

We agreed.

Before he could say more, Dean pulled me to the side by wrapping an arm round my shoulders. “See ya, kiddo,” he said as he pressed me into a sideways hug. He let go of me and lunged for Sam with his other arm, catching our bleary-eyed brother in a headlock that ended with his knuckles musing Sam’s hair. “Bitch.”

“Jerk!” Sam squirmed out of Dean’s loosening hold and shoved him back.

Dean gave an unrepentant grin as Sam attempted to smooth his tousled hair, glaring beneath messy bangs all the while.

Dad had a small smile on his face that wore away as he strode to the door. Dean’s grin widened with a, “Don’t do anything I’d do,” before following.

“Dean.”

Pausing at the threshold, Dean twisted round to meet Sam’s stare.

“Give ‘em hell.”

Smirking, Dean answered with a nod and a, “Hell yeah,” before disappearing out into the night. The door closed firmly behind him.

I moved ahead and twisted the deadbolt. Sam handed me the salt and I fixed the spots where the line had broken.

We both converged beside the large window dominating the street-side wall. Pulling the heavy cream curtains aside, Sam and I watched as Dad and Dean got into the Impala. We waited until the car started with a roar and backed out of the drive. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried, but it was an old, familiar feeling. It was submerged to the back of my mind by the time the car disappeared down the street.

“I’m going back to sleep,” Sam said, already heading for the staircase.

I followed, but instead of collapsing back in bed, I grabbed my clothes for the day. The shower took until sunrise. Styling my hair and finishing makeup took another twenty minutes. By the time I was out, the hall had lightened, but a new soft rhythm overhead warned me to pull my hoodie on before leaving.

As I thought, a brief glance out the kitchen window revealed a gray sky overhead and rain drizzling down the glass. Grabbing a leftover slice of pizza for breakfast, I settled in at the dining table.

I was halfway through when the shower started up again. The best thing about looking after Sam was, really, he didn’t need much minding. He’d always been quiet and rarely acted out. Except when he did, he _really_ did. The last time he’d run off it’d taken a week to track him down.

Hair still damp, he joined me after he’d finished dressing. Aside from the sound of Sam eating his pizza and the light pelting of rain against the house, it was quiet. My eyes wandered up to the analog clock hanging against the dining room wall. We had a few hours.

We ended up in front of the television to pass the time. Used to motel room amenities, the recliners and huge tv were luxuries to us. But the time sped forward, and it wasn’t long before we were gathering our backpacks and heading out to the truck.

Finding the high school was a matter of getting back on the main street and heading further into town until we saw the sign and cluster of buildings. I pulled round to the foremost one, parking in front of large glass double doors. Sam and I left our bags in the truck and drew up our hoods before heading with slow steps into the main office.

A long counter separated the bulk of the room. A woman seated behind it looked up as we stepped out of the rain. “Hello.”

I passed a pair of orange plastic chairs to stand before the counter. My eyes scanned the room, noting the doors leading deeper into the building to either side, the file cabinets lining the far wall, and various pieces of office equipment, before meeting the woman’s curious stare with a well-practiced smile. “Hi. Sarah and Sam Winchester. We’re—”

“Our new students,” the woman finished. Sam and I exchanged a brief glance before I nodded. She rolled her chair to the side, pulling a drawer open and digging through the folders within. We waited as she pulled out several slips of paper before standing and setting them on the counter. “Here’s your schedules,” she informed us, separating them from the slim pile. Plucking a pen from a holder near her keyboard, she turned to another sheet—what looked like a map of the school’s interior rooms—and began consulting the schedules before circling various cells within the outline of buildings. “Here are your classrooms.” Finishing the first, she handed three papers to Sam before repeating the process for me.

“Thank you,” Sam intoned, looking over the page in his hands.

“You’re welcome,” she smiled. “Be sure to have your teachers sign the form and return it here at the end of the day.”

“Right,” I said, accepting the papers she held out to me.

“You two have a nice day.”

“You too,” Sam returned while I wandered back out into the gray day.

Opening the door, I hid the papers against my chest and dashed for the truck. The splash of footsteps behind me told me Sam had followed. I was first, escaping the drizzle with a minimum of water damage to the bundle in my hands. Sam was barely a moment behind. “Anything surprising?” I asked.

“No,” he said, boredom flattening his words.

I turned the engine and made for the parking lot I’d spied on the way in. It was already filling up as the old Ford grumbled along. I noticed that ours wasn’t the only truck. I took the first empty space available and pulled in. Once parked, we pulled up our bookbags and consulted our maps before braving the weather again.

Sam stuck by my side as we crossed the lot. The constant double glances and curious gawking didn’t escape my notice. I’m sure Sam caught them, too. New kids in a small town drew attention. This wasn’t the first time either of us had dealt with being the first fresh faces everyone had seen since kindergarten.

Sam was studying his map, eyes lifting every so often to take in the buildings sprawled out before us. “I think my first class is there,” he said, pointing with the sheet to one of the squat structures with a big two painted on the corner.

According to my map, I was in building three. “See you later.”

“Yeah.” Sam said, folding his papers and stuffing them into his pocket. Head ducking, he took off at a light jog for the building.

I kept to my sedate pace as I followed the sidewalk. I rounded a larger building before I found three. I stepped after a pair of girls past the door, following their move as they hung their coats on hooks just inside. I didn’t have anything but my denim jacket. I kept my hoodie on, though I lowered the hood and looked around.

The students already seated in desks studied me as I observed all the windows and the seating arrangements. I saw a free desk in the back corner, near one of the windows, and started making a beeline for it. I had to backtrack as I remembered I needed the teacher to sign the sheet.

Tall with thinning hair, Mr. Mason stared like he’d never seen a new student before as he accepted the paper from me. His sights kept flickering up as he signed and handed it back. I gave a thin smile and moved to the seat in the back.

At least I hadn’t had to introduce myself.

Before starting, Mr. Mason came back to hand me a sheet of paper and a book— _Wuthering Heights_. I flipped the cover open and looked at the first page. Catching the old-fashioned style, I let it fall shut. My gaze drifted towards the window and out into the grey day beyond. Rain sluiced down the glass. I watched the weak light gleam off the rivulets of water until the bell rang.

“Hey.” I turned to find a boy ganglier than Sam, with a ton more acne, leaning towards me. “You’re Sarah Winchester, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” I looked down long enough to pack up my new book and shove the reading list in the vicinity of my folders. He was standing by the time I finished. I got up, finding we were about the same height.

His smile was friendly. “I’m Eric.”

Drawing a lock of hair back behind my ear, I nodded.

“What’s your next class?”

“Um,” I consulted the already crinkled sheet. “Government. Building six.”

“I can show you the way,” he offered.

I grinned. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

His smile widened. “Sure.”

We paused long enough to gather our jackets before heading back out. I lifted my hood and squinted out, noting it was raining harder than before. Glad I wouldn’t have to consult my map to find the next building, I stuck close to my guide’s side.

“So where are you from?” he asked as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

“All over.” I shrugged. “My dad travels a lot for business.”

“What’s he do?”

“Insurance,” I lied with ease. “How about your folks?”

I made sure to carefully redirect the conversation back to him anytime he tried to move it back to me. Like most people, he was more than happy to talk about himself. He kept up a steady stream of facts about his life all the way to my next classroom. It struck me as pretty normal.

He lingered by the door. “Maybe our next class will be together.”

“Cool.” I hiked up my bag and smiled. “See you around, Eric.”

He agreed, standing and waiting for me to enter before wandering back off to the sidewalk.

My morning classes each went the same way. Stares from other students. The teachers launching into subjects I was way behind in. A couple made me introduce myself. Long practice had me reciting my usual spiel with ease.

By the time I had lunch, I was already loaded with books and assignments that I doubted getting a passing grade in, if I bothered with them at all. A girl, Julia, who barely came up to my shoulders had been in two of my last classes, and so was happy to lead me to lunch. After gathering up our trays and some food, she brought me to her table of friends. Introductions were made.

I was the shiny new object, and everyone wanted to know something about me. I smiled and fed them the most generic things I could think of, sticking close enough to the truth that it’d be easy to remember, but neglecting certain details. Where was I from? “Kansas. Are you all from here?” What did I like to do? “Hunt. What about you guys?” I kept to the same trick, turning it immediately back to them.

It was after catching sight of Sam wandering in alone, looking for a place to sit, that I first noticed them.

He ended up a few tables down, which was about as far away from me as he could get. They were seated in the very back corner. There were five, three boys and two girls. The fact they were all ghostly pale caught my eye.

Their impossibly good looks kept it.

Each one could’ve modeled. The stunning blonde with the bored expression might as well have walked right off the cover of Vogue. Another girl with short, spiky black hair and a heart shaped face with delicate features was the definition of petite. The boys were all various shades of heart-stopping. Was it the larger of the three with the dark, curly hair and superhero jawline that was handsomer than the leaner honey-blonde with the aristocratic features? Or maybe it was the bronze-haired boy who wouldn’t have been out of place in a boyband?

I drew my gaze away with some difficulty. I wondered how some of the best-looking people I’d ever seen were sitting by themselves, instead of being the center of some larger clique.

“Who’re they?” I wondered aloud to Jessica, the girl to my immediate right.

She looked up, sights following mine. I didn’t have to clarify who I was talking about.

The bronze-haired boy looked over, catching her eye. Her sights widened before immediately diving back down to her plate with a giggle.

His gaze slid to meet mine for an instant before breaking away.

“That’s Edward Cullen.” She peeked back up through her lashes and, seeing Edward was no longer looking, nodded towards the bigger boy across from him. “His brother Emmett. The short haired girl is Alice, their sister.” She speared a green bean on her plate. “The other two are Jasper and Rosalie Hale. They live with Doctor Cullen and his wife.”

“Oh.” I watched Edward pick a bagel apart with long, pale fingers. He seemed to be speaking to the others, though they didn’t look to be paying him any attention. “They’re…”

Jessica giggled. “Yeah,” she agreed. “But they’re all _together_ together. Jasper and Alice, and Rosalie and Emmett.” Her voice lowered as she added, “And they live in the same house.”

“Convenient,” I decided, startling a laugh out of Jessica.

“No kidding.” Jessica flicked her hair back. “Doctor Cullen adopted all of them. Jasper and Rosalie are twins, but they’re all foster children.”

I’d known foster kids. Usually I’d met them shortly after some monster had killed their parents. “They’re lucky Doctor Cullen took them all in.” No one wanted to end up a ward of the state.

“I guess.”

She was lucky not to know how lucky. I picked up my apple and took a bite, letting my sights finally wander off the table of beautiful strangers and over to Sam.

My little brother was clearly keeping to himself. That wasn’t unusual. He had a rougher time making “friends” then Dean or I ever had. Sammy had a big heart. He didn’t like to get close to someone only to have to leave a few weeks later. Kid tended to stick to his books.

Lunch didn’t last long. It seemed I’d barely sat down before everyone was swarming to the trashcans. I followed diligently after.

“What do you have next?” Jessica asked.

“Biology two,” I said as I dumped the tray and set it aside. I was glad. It was a subject I wasn’t entirely hopeless at.

“Me too,” said a soft-spoken girl. I thought her name was Angela.

“Mind if I follow you?”

She smiled and shook her head.

“See you later,” I said to Jessica, earning a smile and a nod.

The walk to biology was quiet. Angela didn’t feel the need to ask questions or fill the silence. I kept up beside her, hood up, ready for school to be over for the day.

She led me to a classroom filled with long black tables covered with lab paraphernalia. I walked over to the teacher and handed him my slip. He signed it, grabbed a textbook from his desk, and told me to take a seat—no introduction necessary. Hiking my bag up, I looked around and found the classroom already full. The only seat left was beside Edward Cullen.

It wasn’t until I got a few feet from the lab table that I saw his expression—and had to stop myself from reaching for a gun that wasn’t there.

Murder was in those dark eyes.

I halted, taken aback, uncertain what to do. Every instinct in my body told me to get the hell away—which of course met with my dad’s training. He’d taught me to run towards whatever my gut said to back off from. It was the latter that I listened to, sliding carefully into the seat beside him.

Edward turned away, back to his books. His jaw flared as he ground his teeth. The temple I could see shifted restlessly beneath unblemished, white skin.

The lesson started, but I barely paid attention. All my senses were fixed on the boy beside me. My instincts were screaming danger, but my common sense condemned my instincts as silly. So, naturally, I listened to my instincts. I knew better than to rely on common sense. It’s not nearly well informed enough.

I watched him from the corner of my eye, listened to him instead of the teacher. He sat perfectly still, his sights glued to his unopened biology text, glaring at the cover as if the featured starfish had insulted his mother. Every so often his hands, curled into fists, would tighten until his arms bulged. His muscles were long but firm. He was stronger than his lanky build looked at first glance.

Something about that stillness of his struck me as _wrong_ , but I couldn’t say why.

His immobility only lasted until the end of class. He was up and out of the door as soon as the bell rang.

It was then that I realized how stiffly I’d been sitting. I forced my shoulders to relax as I gathered up my new textbook, dropping it into my bag.

“You’re Sarah, right?”

The voice pierced the buzz of adrenalin still coursing through my veins. Blinking, I turned to focus on a cute blonde with gelled hair and a confident smile. Nothing dark lurked anywhere in his bright, open expression.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Mike.”

Only my years of helping Dad in some of his cons made the smile I fixed my lips into look anything close to genuine. “Hey.”

His gaze flicked to the door before finding its way back to me. “Need someone to help you find your next class?”

“Oh, uh,” I stood and he followed. “Sure.”

“Cool. What is it?”

“Gym.”

His eyes brightened. “Me too.” He shouldered his bag’s strap. “C’mon.”

We walked back out of the building and took a left at the pavement. “So did you spit in Cullen’s face or something?”

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the boy’s weird behavior. “Nah. I’ve no idea what was up with that guy.”

“He’s weird.” Mike peeked at me through the corner of his eyes. “I would’ve been happy to sit next to you.”

I smiled. “You’re a lot friendlier,” I settled on saying.

He shrugged and as we approached a pair of metal doors, pulled one open for me. I smiled in thanks and went in. “Girls’ dressing room is there,” he said, pointing towards a door halfway down the hall. I could hear the squeaking of sneakers beyond, further down the hall where I supposed the gymnasium must be.

“Thanks,” I said, giving a little wave as I wandered past.

“See you in a bit.”

I looked over my shoulder and nodded.

Nice and cute as he’d been, my thoughts seemed dragged back to Cullen. Changing into shorts and a loose t-shirt, my brow furrowed as I remembered the look in his eyes. It was something I recognized all too well from various hunts. Hatred. Anger.

Hunger.

Shutting my locker with a clang, my instincts were all screaming at me. Something was _off_ about Edward Cullen.

What it might have been haunted me like a poltergeist all through P.E. We were playing volleyball, and more than one spiked ball sailed by me as my thoughts remained stuck on the pale, bronze-haired boy. I managed a few decent returns and my serves were alright, but I’d played no where near as good as I should have.

Luckily, gym was the last class of the day. I changed back into my normal jeans, shirt, hoodie, and jacket and made my way back out towards the truck. Sam was waiting in the passenger seat by the time I made it across the lot.

I pulled the door open and was about to climb in when he glanced over. “We still have to hand in our sheets.”

“Crap,” I sighed, stepping up and in. “I’ll stop by the office.”

Sam shrugged and slouched back in the seat, staring out the window.

I shut the door and sniffed against the humidity. “How was your day.”

He shrugged again. “Fine.”

I nodded and started the engine. Unlike the bulk of the class that was heading back towards the street, I swung around to the front building. Parking up by the doors, Sam and I unbuckled and hopped down.

We had to stop back at the truck bed to fish our slips from our bags before heading back into the office. Sam was having trouble finding his, apparently having forgotten which folder he’d put it in. The wind had picked up, and the cold convinced me to wait for him where it was warm.

Hurrying inside, I looked up and frowned. The back of a familiar tousled head of bronze hair was at the counter. Edward's low, attractive voice was easy to hear. He was trying to convince the woman to switch him out of Biology to another class.

My brows rose in surprise. Could he really hate me so much on sight that he wanted to switch because of it? I’d never stuck around anywhere long enough for anyone to loathe me that much. Something seriously strange was going on.

The door opened and Sam stepped inside, chased the whole way by a gust of freezing wind. It rustled the papers in a bin at the counter.

Edward Cullen’s back stiffened. He turned at the waist, just enough to see me lingering by the door.

Those black eyes chilled my blood. My fingers flexed, and I wished I had the comforting, cool weight of my gun in hand.

Turning back around, he told the receptionist, “Never mind. I can see it’s impossible.” After thanking her for her help, he whipped around and disappeared out the door without another glance at me.

I watched his back until it passed out of my line of sight.

“Sarah.” I caught a glimpse of Sam’s irritated expression before I stepped up and handed my paper to the woman.

“How was your day?” she asked.

I forced another smile. “Great. Everyone’s been really nice.” Almost, anyway.

She seemed pleased at this. Sam and I wandered back out to the truck. I glanced back down the sidewalk that led to the parking lot, but there was no hint of that distinctive bronze head of mused hair.

I jumped back in the truck and started it up. My mind was still on Cullen as I turned out onto the main street and headed in the direction of the place we were staying at for the time being.

I took the turn to the neighborhood and got another odd look from my brother. “Aren’t we getting groceries?”

I sighed. “Yeah. Sorry.”

His brows pinched together. “You okay?”

I thought about those black eyes in a handsome face. I couldn’t think of a way to explain what I’d felt at that dark stare. I forced a grin. “Sure.”

Sam aimed a disbelieving look my way but dropped it.

I pulled into the lot of the first store we found, some regional chain. Sam and I were quiet as we walked beneath the bright fluorescent lights down one linoleum aisle after another. We grabbed a week’s worth of microwave meals, some cereal, lunchmeat, and peanut butter and jelly. I paid with one of a dozen fake credit cards I kept on me, along with some fake ids.

Loading everything back in the truck, I finally headed back to the house. Sam went to do homework while I made a ham sandwich and turned on the television. No matter what was on, nothing could pull my thoughts away from those dark eyes.

It stayed that way the rest of the day, all the way to ten, when I finally decided to try and get some sleep.

[ = = = ]

A creak near the window jolted me awake. My hand pulled my gun out from under my pillow without having to consciously reach for it. Long afternoons spent shooting with my dad had it steady in my grip even as my sleep-crusted eyes scanned the room.

The same cloud cover that had hidden the sun now hid the moon. There was just the softest of glows from a streetlight two houses down that lightened the darkness in the room, keeping it from being absolute.

The curtains waved, ever so slightly.

I had shut the window.

Any remnants of sleep were swept away. I strained my sights, trying to see into the darkness that lay heavily around me. The shadows were deep and dark, but some were darker than others. Eventually I could make out their shapes as I mentally thought of the room’s layout. The dresser against the wall. My duffle laying on the floor. A glass on the bedside table. Something tall standing by the closet.

And then I realized there shouldn’t have been anything in that corner.

My gun aimed almost without thought, and my finger squeezed the trigger. In the momentary flash, I saw someone. Something. But then it was at the window, and I had the impression of a human-shaped figure diving out head-first.

I scrambled against the blanket covering me and nearly fell to the floor. I caught myself before I could go down, hurrying across to the same window I’d seen it disappear out of. I pressed myself against the wall beside it, forcing my breath to stay even despite the flurry of panicked thoughts racing through my head. Eventually, when I didn’t hear anything, I whirled to the side and stuck my gun outside–the screen had been taken off—and aimed it towards the dark lawn below.

I couldn’t see anything moving. That didn’t mean nothing was there.

I was still scanning the yard when the door to my room banged open.

I whirled, gun out, when Sam asked, “What’s going on?!”

A moment later, the light came on. One of Sam’s hands dropped from the switch. The other held a sawed-off shotgun pointing towards the floor.

“Something was in my room.”

Sam frowned and gave the now fully lit bedroom a slower, thorough once-over. He adjusted his hold on the shotgun, lifting it higher. “Where?”

I nodded to the now brightly lit and empty corner. “There.” I shook my head before looking to the window. “It jumped out the window after I shot it.”

Sam joined me on the other side of the window frame. “Salt line’s broken,” Sam observed, nodding towards the grains of salt I’d laid across the windowsill before turning in for the night. It was a mess. The two of us peered down at the yard.

“C’mon,” I said, moving away and back towards the open door. Sam followed as I led him out into the hall and down the stairs, flicking on lights and checking corners with our guns raised along the way. By the time we made it to the backdoor, I was fairly sure whatever had been in my room was long gone. Still, Sam and I took up the defensive side-by-side position our Dad had taught us and checked our corners before moving outside.

With the porchlight, we could see all the way to the trees lining the property. But the lawn stretched all the way to the beginnings of the woods, and anything could have gotten away through the trees. A glance told me Sam was thinking the same thing, but we still made a sweep of the yard, first with our eyes, and then sticking together.

When a neighbor switched a light on we decided to go back indoors.

Sam and I stood in the kitchen, feet damp and covered in blades of grass from walking the lawn without shoes. “What do you think it was?” he asked, eyes bright and alert despite the hour.

I shook my head. “Don’t know. It looked human. I think.”

Sam’s brows furrowed. “Sure it wasn’t a burglar or something?”

“I shot it. It didn’t even pause before diving headlong out the window.” I frowned. “I didn’t see any blood upstairs. And a dive out a second story window would’ve hurt like hell.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, a thoughtful frown on his face. He met my stare. “Think we ought to call Dad?”

I sighed and set my gun on the counter. “Suppose so.”

Dad didn’t pick up, so I ended up leaving a message. The rest of the night we spent downstairs, watching the doors and windows more than the television. We didn’t sleep a wink. Not even after the sun rose.


	3. Suspicions

It was hard not to take my gun into school with me. I reluctantly left it under the truck’s front seat. Sam kept his beneath the pickup’s passenger side. We had the sawed off stashed between the seatback and the cab.

I did hide a hunting knife in my bag. Just in case. It made me feel marginally better.

While not as bad as the day before, I received a fair share of looks on my way to and from classes. My self-appointed guides continued to walk with me, even though I now knew the way. Most of my attention went to keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. That included Cullen.

Come lunch, as soon as I stepped into the cafeteria, I sought the table at the far end. Four perfect people sat at it. No sight of the bronze-haired Edward.

I thought of his murderous eyes and his attempt to get out of Biology. Why wasn’t he sitting with his family? Was he gone? My mind wandered to the creature last night. Trying to remember Edward’s height, I attempted to put him in the corner of my bedroom. Was he the same size as the intruder? I hadn’t gotten a good enough sense to say for certain.

Still. I’d shot something last night and today Edward wasn’t here. Could be a coincidence, but it was suspicious.

I stood in line with Jessica and Angela, but before we could sit at the same table as yesterday, Mike intercepted us. Jessica started out happy with the new arrangement, but her mood soured when Mike took a seat next to me, leaving her sitting beside Angela. Between walking with me to classes and this, Mike’s interest seemed more than friendly.

At least, Jessica seemed to think so.

Cute as he was, I’d probably be gone within the month. I’d never stayed put anywhere long enough to do much more than have a couple of dates. I’d learned real quick that trying to have a boyfriend while on the move was the stuff of fairy tales.

And I was learning the family business. Hunting wasn’t the kind of life choice that lent itself to the white picket fence and apple pie.

I resolved to sit beside someone else next time.

I tried to be more reserved with my responses and my smiles as Mike walked with me back to Biology. It wasn’t too hard. My mind was on Cullen, and whether he’d be in class. But his seat was empty. I took mine, considerably more at ease than I’d been the day before. Mike lingered by my station, telling me about a trip he and his friends planned to take to the beach. He didn’t leave until the bell rang.

I did much better during gym class, scoring a handful of points. Afterwards, I met Sam back at the truck.

“Anything weird happen?” he asked as soon as I shut the door.

I shook my head. Cars were pulling out around us. I watched as they lined up to exit the lot into the street.

“Same.” Sam settled his bag down onto the floor. “What do you think? Wait and see?”

The Cullens were crossing the lot, keeping pace with one another. Jasper and Alice held hands. They made their way to a shining silver Volvo. No Edward.

“Not much choice,” I replied as they got inside. “We’ll keep an eye on the news. See if anything comes up.”

We left soon after, stopping by a gas station on the way to pick up a copy of the paper. Sam checked the obituaries while I drove us back to the house. “Nothing strange,” he announced shortly before I pulled into the driveway.

Sam was folding the paper back up as I shifted into park. “Anything in town?”

“No,” he replied, tucking the paper into his bookbag. “Port Angeles, mostly. Natural causes.”

Meaning they’d been elderly. I nodded and reached under the seat for my gun. I tucked it into my waistband before grabbing my backpack. Sam was already reaching for the shotgun, so I shoved the door open and hopped down. “We should set up a watch tonight,” I said as Sam’s door opened, his sneakers hitting the pavement a moment later.

“Yeah,” he agreed, glancing over the top of the truck’s hood, shotgun tucked at his side beneath his jacket.

“I’ll take first shift,” I decided as we walked up to the door. That’d give Sam more rest.

Sam nodded his acceptance, and we both took up defensive positions before unlocking the front door. A glance at the floor showed the salt line hadn’t been disturbed. Even so, we brought out our weapons before stepping inside. It took fifteen minutes to sweep through the house.

We found nothing.

I was starting to regret not staying at a motel. One room with a connecting bathroom would’ve been far easier to secure.

It was a long night given the little sleep I’d had the night before. We decided to take turns sleeping on the couch. Later that evening, after Sam went to sleep, I decided to try finishing my homework. The frustration helped keep me awake. Little of it made any sense. The books weren’t like any of the other texts from the past four schools I’d been to that year, and I was pretty sure Government and Algebra were further ahead of where my last school had been.

Still, I was determined not to fail and redo the year. I muddled my way through the reading and answered what I could. I did better in English. The first few chapters of _Wuthering Heights_ weren’t as bad as I’d feared. The review questions were tedious, though.

It was three in the morning by the time I was done. But I was caught up. I woke Sam before wearily collapsing onto the sofa. Despite the less then ideal sleeping arrangement, I was out within minutes.

[ = = = ]

The next few days went the same way. Wasn’t until four days after the incident in my room, while we were halfway through our microwaved dinners, that one of the burner phones rang.

Sam and I exchanged a glance before I answered. “Hello?”

“Sarah.”

The knot that had been sitting in my stomach unwound a little bit at Dad’s voice. “Hey dad.” Sam set his fork down as I leaned back in my chair. “Did you get my message?”

“Just now. We’re close enough to civilization for cell reception. You two alright?”

“Fine.”

“Tell me exactly what happened,” he ordered.

Straightening up, I told him about the intruder. “It hasn’t been back since. And we haven’t seen anything in the papers or on the news.”

Dad was quiet for half a minute. “What did it look like?”

“Human, I think. I didn’t get a good enough look to say for sure. It was too dark to see much.”

“You did fine, Sarah. But I’m sending your brother back to keep an eye on things. He should be there tomorrow evening.”

Sending Dean to babysit us would leave Dad all alone in the wilderness with something that had taken out eight people. “He doesn’t need to. I can handle it.” My hand tightened on the phone.

Silence reigned on the other end.

“Seriously. Sam and I are fine. No one’s dropped dead. You and Dean keep on the thing actually killing people. Besides, it seemed spooked when I shot it. Hasn’t been back since. Could even be dead.”

His reply came in a low, serious tone. “You sure it didn’t have yellow eyes.”

I hadn’t seen its eyes. “Like I said, it was dark. But whatever it was broke the salt line. Demons can’t do that, right?”

I heard a quiet exhale on the other end. “Never heard of one that could,” he acknowledged.

“Then I don’t think it was—It. I’m seventeen now, Dad. I got this. I just thought you should know what happened.”

There was another long pause. Then, “Alright.” A shot of pride rushed through me at the show of trust. “But I want you to check in with Bobby every day from now on.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

“And call me if it comes back. You hear me, girl?”

“Yes, sir,” I dutifully answered.

“Let me talk to your brother.”

“Sam.” I held out the cell.

Sam wiped his hand on his jeans before accepting the phone. His expression remained serious as he listened. Every so often, he’d give a, “Yes.” Mostly, it seemed dad was passing along orders.

“I will,” he finished, before holding the phone back out to me.

I took it and held it up to my ear. “How’s things on your end?”

Dad gave a low hum. “Still haven’t locked down what, but we’ve narrowed the list. Whatever it is likes to avoid anything resembling civilization. We’ve spent most of the time hiking in the backwoods. I expect that won’t change much.”

Meaning he’d be out of contact most of the time.

The conversation didn’t last long after that. We exchanged promises to be careful before hanging up.

That Saturday we visited the library, checking out old issues of the paper for any unusual stories about intruders that might match what’d happened. A half a day’s search turned up nothing. Forks didn’t have much in the way of crime. Not that wasn’t domestic in origin, anyway.

Sunday we were scouting around the trees behind the house when Sam found an old, overgrown trail. It was too late in the day to go more than a few miles into the forest looking for tracks. We found nothing. If something had come through the woods, either it hadn’t taken the most obvious path, or it left the trail when it got closer to the neighborhood.

With no other leads or unusual happenings, we went back to sleeping in our rooms.

[ = = = ]

Five were at the table.

Edward Cullen was back. From the distance, I studied him as discretely as I could. He was smiling, hair wet from the snow falling outside.

He didn’t look like someone recovering from a gunshot wound. But then, whatever dove out the window obviously wasn’t human.

I turned my attention back to Jessica as she was talking about her weekend, loading up my tray for lunch. We all wandered over to the table that had become customary for us to sit at.

It was a few minutes into lunch when Jessica leaned over. “Edward Cullen’s staring at you.”

I shifted my sights to their table. He was looking in my direction just as Jessica had said. Our eyes locked. Something about his seemed different. To my frustration, I couldn’t put my finger on what.

He looked away. I forced my brows to smooth as I turned back to the table. I plucked a chip from the small snack-sized bag. “Guess I’ll have a lab partner for the day.”

“You sit with him in Biology?”

Still chewing, I nodded. I waited till I was done swallowing to say, “Poor guy.”

“I think he’s luckier than he deserves,” Mike said, a slight frown on his face.

“You wouldn’t say that if you saw my grades.” That prompted a round of commiseration on everyone’s least favorite subjects. My sights sought out Sam. I found him sitting off by himself again. A textbook lay open on the table besides his tray and his attention was fixed on its pages.

That naturally led my eyes to the Cullen table. Edward was looking over again. Our eyes had barely met when Emmett leaned forward and shook his head. Hair still wet from the snow, water ended up flying around the table. The two girls recoiled, Alice bringing up her tray like a shield. Edward’s attention turned back towards his table with a smirk. Emmett was laughing.

I wondered how long his good mood would last.

The weather warmed over lunch and by the time it was over the snow had melted. A light rain now fell from the sky once we left the cafeteria and stepped outside. I flicked my hood up as Mike, who was sticking by my side, frowned at the melting snow. There had been plans for a snow fight in the parking lot after school.

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I said, “My brother found an old hunting trail behind the house. Don’t suppose you’re familiar with it?”

Mike shrugged slightly. “No, but I’m not surprised. There are trails all over these woods.”

“Ever hear about anything weird out there?”

His brows cinched together. “Weird?”

It was my turn to shrug. “Like unexplained deaths? Missing persons? Shadowy figures?”

He stared, brows practically becoming one. “Uh, no.” He blinked. “Why?”

I fixed a smile on my face. “I just… like local legends. Y’know, weird stuff like ghost stories and big foot sightings.”

“Big foot?” He was back to sounding amused. “Not around here. If it’s legends you’re after, you’re better off asking the Quileutes.”

“Quileutes?”

Mike nodded as we reached the biology building. “The local tribe. They live in La Push on a reservation.” He pulled the door open for me.

“Oh.” That was interesting. I stomped my feet off on the mat and shrugged out of my denim jacket, hanging it up.

Mike stayed on my heels as I headed back towards my station. “Y’know, my dad run’s the sporting goods store in town.”

I swung my bag beside my chair before turning to face Mike. “Given all the woods around here, business must be pretty good.”

Mike grinned. “Yeah.” He leaned a hip against the edge of the table while I sat. “If you’re planning on hiking that trail and need anything, I can get it at a discount.”

I pulled my book and notebook from my backpack. “Thanks, but we’ve already got everything.”

Mike opened his mouth to say more when a musical voice said, “Excuse me.”

Edward Cullen stood behind Mike, the path to his seat blocked off. His expression lacked any murderous intent, but he was frowning in Mike’s direction.

“Sorry,” Mike startled, hopping off the table.

Edward strode past as soon as Mike stepped aside. Mike and I exchanged a brief glance before he headed off to his own station.

Opening the notebook, I plucked a pen from my bag and made a heading for my notes. It didn’t take long, so I started drawing at the side. From the corner of my eyes, I could see Edward unloading his bookbag.

“Hello.” At the warm tone, I turned my head. Edward smiled, showing off those movie star good looks. Especially with his hair wet and slightly disheveled from rain. “I didn’t have the chance to introduce myself last week. I’m Edward Cullen.” His head tilted ever so slightly. “You must be Sarah Winchester.”

There was no trace of that strange, murderous glare from before. His eyes were attentive, his expression friendly. I stopped doodling. “Seems like everyone already knows who I am.”

His lips quirked upwards. “The whole school’s been buzzing about you and your brother.”

Pen waggling between my fingers, I gave a rueful grin. “Awesome. Nothing better than small town gossip.” If sarcasm could be bottled, mine would’ve caustic enough to dissolve metal.

Edward’s lips curled higher. “Have you been to many small towns?”

I shrugged. “More than most.” His eyes still shone with interest. Time to turn it back to him. “How about you? Are you homegrown?”

“No. My siblings and I moved here with our parents,” he said with barely a moment’s thought before speaking. The effortless way he spoke, it was either a well-practiced lie or the truth.

“Where are you from originally?” I tried.

He blinked, and I was momentarily distracted by how long and dark his lashes were. “Chicago. You?”

“Kansas.”

I was about to ask when his family came to Forks, and why, when he beat me to the punch. “Where in Kansas?”

I spun my pen on the tabletop. “Place you’ve probably never heard of.” The seconds stretched on. I found myself at the center of his steady, unwavering attention. Long enough to notice the color of his eyes—an amber so light and vibrant, it was nearly gold. A nervous energy bubbled up and buzzed along my skin. I found myself admitting, “Lawrence,” just to fill the silence.

“What’s it like?”

“Wouldn’t know.” I didn’t remember much before mom died. And dad tended to avoid Kansas if he could. “I was barely three when we left.”

He again beat me to the question before I had a chance to ask him anything. “So you travel a lot?”

I couldn’t help the wry twist of my lips. “You could say that.”

His brows lowered lightly before he asked, “How do you like Forks?”

I settled on the same diplomatic, “It’s nice,” that I’d given to everyone who’d asked the same question.

Edward’s gaze narrowed a bit, turning inspective. I had the feeling he’d caught that what I’d said wasn’t the whole truth. I was about to try and steer the conversation away when he asked, “Too much rain?”

Thwarted again, I picked my pen up before hooking my feet on the lower bar of the stool’s legs and leaning back. The pen waggled restlessly between my fingers. “It’s not the rain I mind.”

“Then what?” He looked far too interested in the answer.

Half of my family was gone, but I wasn’t about to admit that to a stranger. One I was still suspicious about. “We spent the last month in California.” I shrugged. “Guess I miss the beach.”

Edward’s attention had yet to move away, either in thought or in boredom, at any point throughout our conversation. He stared at me like I was the most fascinating person in the room. Even though my instincts were still warning me something was off, I had to admit—someone so unbelievably handsome paying that much attention to me was… really flattering. “It must be hard to move around so much.”

I grimaced before I could help myself. I shifted my hands to my lap, tapping my pen against my knee. The lid clicked with every bounce. “It’s alright.” I whipped out the smile I’d practiced in front of the mirror. The one I used to charm teachers and fool cops. “I’m with family. Y’know. ‘Home is where the heart is,’” I quoted. I thought about what I’d just said and cringed. “Wow. That sounds really stupid.”

His gaze softened. “Actually, I couldn’t agree more.”

The buzzing along my skin intensified. I scrambled for something cool or interesting to say in response—and came up blank. I was still struggling against the sudden knot in my tongue when Mr. Banner strode in the door, signaling the start of class.

I redirected my sights with a profound sense of gratitude to my Biology Teacher. Letting out a slow breath through my nose, I brought my hands back to the tabletop and moved the tip of my pen to paper.

My gratitude turned sour as it soon became clear we’d be doing lab work. I slouched forward. My talent for biology was all about anatomy. But as Mr. Banner described the assignment—glancing at slides of onion root cells and categorizing them by their phases of mitosis—I realized I was about to be outed as the biggest idiot in the room.

“Ladies first, partner?” Edward asked with a grin as he indicated the box of slides.

“Chivalry,” I said, amused despite my impending doom. Gallows humor, I suppose. “In a moment you’re going to regret that.” As his eyebrow arched, I angled the microscope and pressed the first slide in. To my complete unsurprise, I had no idea what I was looking at. I shut my eyes and inwardly cursed.

Way to look like a complete moron.

“Mind if I…?” he asked, nodding towards the microscope.

I pushed it in his direction. “Be my guest.”

He barely glanced into to the eyepiece before declaring, “Prophase.”

I dragged the sheet over and wrote the answer in the line.

He pressed the microscope back in my direction. I eyed it with the same trepidation I’d give a cursed talisman. “Why don’t you do the next one.”

Edward pulled the microscope back over and plucked a slide out of the box. I watched his long, elegant fingers fix it in place before he bent over the eyepiece again. “Anaphase.” Straightening up, he made to push it back towards me.

I was still writing the answer, hoping I was at least getting the spelling right. “I trust you.”

He quietly pulled out the next slide and switched it with the last. “Interphase.”

The lab work went quick. Edward barely had to look before declaring the answer. Looks and brains. If it weren’t for the murderous edge he sometimes took on, he’d have been perfect. I diligently wrote down his findings. We were the first ones done in the class.

With nothing else to do, I went back to doodling in my notebook. After a minute, I realized I was drawing a wendigo. It had been Dad’s best guess as to what was doing all the killing. I frowned at the thin, twisted parody of a human figure before scribbling it out.

I stiffened as I sensed someone approach from behind.

“Don’t you think you should have given Sarah a chance at the microscope?”

Mr. Banner was examining our lab sheet, though his eyes lifted to meet Edward’s before falling back to the paper.

I forced myself to relax as Edward replied, “She said she trusted my answers.”

Mr. Banner looked down at me.

I whipped out my best smile.

“It’s going to be on the test Friday, Miss Winchester,” Mr. Banner warned before walking away with a mutter.

My smile fell into a pout as I slumped over the table. What I wouldn’t give to just take the G.E.D. and spend my days doing research or hunting, like Dean. Instead here I was, stuck in one stupid class after another.

“It’s my fault,” Edward murmured.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye before shaking my head. “No,” I admitted. “I didn’t do the reading.” I’d researched the town’s history on Saturday and spent Sunday watching tv until Sam discovered the trail.

Edward glanced at the book before his sights found their way back to me. “Plenty of people don’t like biology.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. I’m actually good at anatomy.” I pulled the box of slides over and lifted one out, examining the thin sample between the glass. “I’m just not interested in this cellular stuff.” I pushed the slide back in.

“You do realize that our anatomy is made up of cells,” he said, bemused.

I rolled my eyes. “Yes.”

He still had his lips pressed together, as if physically hold back his laughter, as he watched me.

I scowled. “I like practical knowledge, alright.” I waved a hand at the box. “I’m never going to have to know about this stuff.” Like knowing the different phases cell mitosis was really going to be of any use when I was off hunting a banshee or a demon. It wouldn’t save someone’s life or keep me alive.

“I find it very practical knowledge,” he said quietly. When I looked up at him, his gaze was directed towards the front of the class but seemed focused even further off than that. “Cellular knowledge is the first step towards learning about disease. And ultimately curing it.” He blinked and turned back towards me. “I’d call that practical.”

“I suppose the son of a doctor would,” I replied, feeling a bit sheepish. It wasn’t as if I could really defend my opinion without sounding like a raving lunatic, but I had to admit. He made a good point, too.

His brow lifted. “You’ve heard about me.”

“Only a little.”

His lips twisted into a rueful smile. “Small town gossip.”

I shrugged.

“What about your parents? What do they do?”

I looked down, finding his hands bunched into fists over his thighs. I dragged my sights back up to meet his curious gaze. There was no hint of that tension anywhere in his expression, but there _was_ tension. “My dad sells insurance.”

“And your mother?” his affect remained polite.

I braced myself for impending awkwardness. “She died.”

He winced and frowned. “I’m sorry.” The apology was genuine.

I shrugged. “It was a long time ago. I barely remember her.” I offered a small smile to show I really wasn’t bothered by the question.

“Me either.”

I was startled at his admission.

He noticed. His lips lifted into a wry grin. “I assumed you knew I was adopted.”

“Yeah. I’d heard that,” I admitted.

“Your brother is a bit more of a mystery,” Edward added a moment later.

I started drawing the Impala to give me something other than his too-perfect face to focus on. It was distracting, and I didn’t want to say more about Sam than I had to. “He’s really not.” I started by sketching a rough outline of the body. “Sam likes his books, that’s all.”

“So he’s shy.”

I frowned. “No, not really. He’s actually really good with people. He’s just—super serious about college.” I shrugged, trying to give the impression that Sam’s dreams of going off to college were no big deal. It wouldn’t be in most families.

“But you’re not?”

I started shading the body, mindful of where the light would hit the car’s curves. “I’m planning on entering the family business.”

“Insurance.” He sounded uncertain.

I looked up and grinned. “Moving around. Never knowing where you’ll end up. What you’ll be dealing with. Meeting new people.” He looked fascinated by my answer. I shifted my stare back towards my sketch. “Figure I’d be good at it.”

“I’m sure you’d be good at anything you put your mind to,” he replied graciously.

I scoffed before arching a brow at him as I peered up. “Like with cellular mitosis?” I cast a wry smile his way before letting my sights fall back to the paper.

Before he could answer, Mr. Banner called the class’ attention to the front of the room. There he started in on a lecture, shutting off the classroom lights and using the projector to show huge pictures of the different stages of mitosis we had just been assigned to label.

I sketched the various images, but my mind was only half on the lecture. The rest of me was glad to have a reason not to engage the boy beside me in conversation. I realized that I’d said way more about myself than I probably should have and learned almost nothing new about him—aside from the fact he was from Chicago.

Usually, I wasn’t so far off my game.

I blamed it on his ridiculously good looks. When I was around him, and he wasn’t staring murder at me, it was hard to keep my head on straight.

I risked a brief glance in his direction out the corner of my eye. I found him rigid in his seat, leaning away from me, hands still curled into tight fists. My sights wandered back to the front of the room, and I was confused again. He seemed so friendly but was still acting… odd. And there was something apart from his attitude that was different from last week. I just couldn’t pinpoint what.

As soon as the bell rang, Edward was up and out of the room as swiftly as the last time he’d been in class. I frowned, wondering if it was something as simple as his next class was further away.

Mike paused by my station with a tortured groan. “Man. That was awful. You’re lucky you had Cullen.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, packing up my books and pen.

Mike and I gathered our jackets together and took off into the still-raining afternoon. “At least he seemed a lot friendlier today.”

I glanced his way at the sour tone in his voice. “Guess he wasn’t feeling well last Monday.”

In gym, Mike and I ended on the same team and managed to win two out of three games. He celebrated our second victory by wrapping his arms around me and lifting me into the air. I was so surprised I almost kicked him in the groin. I managed to catch myself before I ended up maiming him.

I kept a good arm’s length between us after that. But we lost the next game, so I didn’t have to worry about a repeat.

I was still somewhat sour about it as I changed and strode into the parking lot. My mood was obvious enough for Sam to pick up on. “What’s wrong?”

I blew out a frustrated breath. “Just—rough afternoon.”

Sam’s brows lifted in surprise as I climbed into the truck. “Okay. Want to talk about it?”

“No,” I replied immediately. When it came to guys who crushed on me, Sam was no where as protective as Dean, but I didn’t feel like admitting that a stupid hug had left me so uncomfortable. Not to mention I didn’t want the family genius to know how bad I’d done in my lab. Not that Sam would be shocked to hear I was doing crappy in my classes. At my defensive answer, Sam’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, but when he reached for the seatbelt, it was obvious he was letting the matter go.

I started the engine and cranked the heater. As the cab warmed, I glanced out the driver side window and caught sight of a familiar figure standing beside the silver Volvo. While he could’ve been looking at something else, I was pretty sure that intense gaze was fixed on me. I put a smile on my face and offered a friendly wave.

“Who’s that?”

Edward’s lips twisted up at a corner before he raised a hand, confirming he’d been staring at me. I turned back to find Sam watching the exchange with that suspicious glint back in his eyes. “Edward Cullen. My lab partner in biology.”

Sam took another long look at Edward before arching a pointed brow my way. “You realize we’re going to be leaving within the month, right?”

This time, I was the one rolling my eyes. “Yes, Sam.”

He lifted his hands. “Just saying.”

“I know, Sam.” I threw the truck into reverse and started backing out.

The sudden blaring of a horn had me stomping the brake. To my horror, I saw a rusted Toyota Corolla in my rearview mirror. Realizing I’d nearly backed into it, my face heated.

Sam, voice dry as could be, asked, “Want me to drive?”

“No,” I snapped, waiting for the truck to pass before easing out far more cautiously.

“Your boyfriend is laughing at you,” Sam kindly informed me as we passed the Volvo.

Instead of gracing Sam with a response, I ground my teeth and kept my eyes on the road. Unfortunately, my silence did nothing to stop the smug amusement radiating from the passenger seat.


	4. Coincidences

After a night spent in a light doze to make sure no shadowy figures made an appearance in my room, I was tired as I forced myself out of bed an hour later than usual. My morning shower didn’t help much. Settling for throwing my hair up into a ponytail, I was still drowsy as I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. I didn’t even feel up to microwaving oatmeal and chose the lazier path of untoasted poptarts for breakfast.

“Hey, Sarah,” Sam called.

Poptart in hand, I meandered into the living room. Sam stood in front of the sectional, remote pointed at the tv. The volume increased as soon as he saw me.

“…attack at the Grisham Mill in Mason County…”

The banner beneath the reporter’s serious portrait read, ‘Man Killed in Animal Attack.’ As if I’d mainlined a pot of coffee, I felt considerably more awake after reading the ominous headline.

Sam and I glanced at each other. “You see that place?” Sam questioned, indicating the arial view of buildings and large tanks on the screen. “What animal big enough to take down a person is going to be roaming around with all that noise?”

He was right. “Definitely suspicious,” I agreed, staring at the overhead shot of the facility. “Hold on.” I passed my poptart to Sam—who took it with an incredulous shift of his brows—and hurried for the front door. I paused long enough to shove my feet into shoes and rushed outside.

Without a jacket or coat, the morning chill finished the job that the news had started. My breath steamed in front of me as I hurried down the steps. The sky remained that omnipresent gray that seemed to perpetually hover over Forks, but the cold lent a certain sharpness to the trees and the houses. Small clumps of snow leftover from the day before clung to the roadside and edge of the driveway.

I was halfway down the sidewalk when my foot suddenly lost traction. Sliding forward, I tried to right myself, but there was too much momentum working against me and nothing to grab onto. I fell hard on my ass, bruising my tailbone and my pride. Groaning, I rolled to the side and felt the telling slickness of ice beneath my hand as I pressed myself up. A brief glance around to see if there were any witnesses, and I noticed the way the light gleamed off the branches of the trees and patches of what I’d taken for water on the street. “Fantastic,” I muttered, realizing ice was everywhere.

Back on my feet, I was considerably more mindful of where I stepped. Reaching the truck, I rounded to the passenger side and pulled open the creaking door. I went right for the glove compartment, revealing dozens of folded maps as soon as it dropped open. Following a brief shuffle, I found the latest one we’d used for the state of Washington. I grabbed it, shut the door, and made my way back into the house.

Sam was still holding the poptart and remote as I stepped inside. “Careful. It’s, um,” I breathed out a laugh as I unfolded the map onto the coffee table. A laugh that ended in a wince as I crouched down. “It’s slippery outside.”

“Yeah,” Sam said as he sat on the couch and leaned forward. “Weather report said there’s ice on the roads.”

Lips pressed together, I nodded. Refocusing on the map, I spread my hands across it to flatten the creases. “Mason County is here.” I pointed to the county line in question before sliding my finger west, till I hit Forks. I tapped the dot that stood for the town. “And we’re here.”

Sam shuffled closer. His brows knit together as he traced the route with his eyes. “What is that? Half an hour?”

“In the truck?” I scoffed.

Brows puckered, Sam lifted his head. “Think we should take a look?”

“We’ll have to wait till school’s out.” At Sam’s look, I said, “They’ve got Bobby’s number, remember? A place that small will definitely notice if we ditch.”

“Right.” He leaned back. “But where would they take the body?”

“Best guess? Closest hospital.”

“Which is—?”

We stared at each other. I grimaced as Sam redirected his gaze to the map. “No clue,” I admitted.

“I’ll look it up during lunch,” he decided. The news filled the silence that passed between us with a new story about a local charity drive. “Dad’s going to want to know about this.”

I shrugged. “So we tell him.” At Sam’s glance, I arched a brow. “Next time he calls.” It was easier asking forgiveness than permission, after all.

Plan decided, Sam and I grabbed our bags and headed out for the day.

As I’d dreaded, the roads were covered in black ice. I gave myself extra time to stop, which meant we were a few minutes later than usual arriving at the school. I hoped the ice would thaw by the time classes were finished.

We climbed out of the cab and started for our respective buildings. A quick scan of the parking lot revealed the Cullens and Hales standing over by their car, this time parked three spots further down the lot then it had been in previous days. I’d just met Edward’s gaze when a loud screech demanded my attention.

A blue van, tires locked, was sliding at an angle down the frozen lane. Standing a few steps back, Sam paused and spun towards the noise.

With terrifying clarity, I realized the van was about to collide into my little brother.

My bag slipped from my numbed fingers as I lunged forward. Sam started towards me, but the van was moving too fast. Unthinking, I reached out in time to grab his arms. Using every ounce of strength I had, I swung us around and flung him out of the van’s path. He slid several feet back, ultimately losing his footing and colliding with the ground.

I didn’t have time to do anything except tense. As if preparing to be smashed between two vehicles might lessen the damage.

The van was close enough to smell rust and oil when something grabbed me from behind and yanked me down. I flew back between two parked cars, hitting the ground so hard my head bounced off the pavement. Ringing filled my ears, but my eyesight was fine. Clear enough to see Edward Cullen now crouched in front of me. As the van kept coming, he shoved his arms out.

The van bounced off his hands.

A huge dent appeared in the side as it slid a few inches away.

Compared to the shockingly fast movements moments before, the slow turn of Edward’s head to look at me over his shoulder seemed to last forever. His eyes were wide enough to show a sea of white around the amber irises as they locked onto mine. Head ringing, back smarting, I stared back into them and realized he’d just saved my life.

By stopping a van with his bare hands.

“Sarah!” The hood of the van buckled beneath all six foot two of skinny teen as Sam jumped up and slid over it.

Edward’s head snapped to the side at Sam’s sudden appearance. Pale, wide hazel eyes shining with horror, Sam crumpled at my side. He spared a brief glance at Edward before focusing on me. “Are you okay?”

I was reluctant to let Edward out of my sights. Somehow, I managed to turn to Sam. At the sudden lance of pain from the back of my head, causing me to wince, I regretted the move instantly. “Yeah,” I managed, pushing myself up by my elbows.

Despite the growing commotion of voices beyond the cars and van, I could hear Sam’s exhale. His expression relaxed and he held out his hand. “Here.”

“She shouldn’t move.”

Sam’s sights whipped back over to Edward. Now crouched at my other side, Edward met his stare head on. “She hit her head pretty hard.”

Sam swallowed before he looked back down to me. “Dizzy?”

“No,” I muttered, moving to sit up. The ringing was already getting softer, but I could feel the stirrings of a headache beginning at the base of my skull.

Two sets of hands held me down. I followed the impossibly pale set up to Edward’s face. He was silent, but his stare was imploring.

“I’ve called an ambulance!” someone on the other side of the van announced. I tore my eyes from Edward’s to meet Sam’s. Sam and I exchanged a long look. A trip to the hospital meant paperwork. That meant they were going to need Dad to sign it all.

On the other hand, at least we’d find out where the hospital was.

Faces were beginning to peer over the trunks of the nearby cars. People were asking about me and Tyler. I gathered he was the one who’d been driving the van.

Since they weren’t about to let me get off the freezing ground, I hugged my jacket tighter around me and settled in for a wait. Edward and Sam stayed beside me. I purposefully kept myself from staring at the apparent van-stopping superpowered teenager that was Edward Cullen.

One thing was for sure. He wasn’t human.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Sam muttered. Brows low and eyes shuttered, he looked haunted.

“I know,” I replied, aiming to keep my tone light. “I totally saved your ass.” I grinned. “You so owe me.”

The tension in Sam finally eased a little. “Yeah, yeah.”

“We’re talking indentured servitude here, Sammy.”

That earned me the look that Dean had labeled Sam’s bitch face. “Don’t call me Sammy.”

I did what any good sister would do and ignored him. “I’m thinking laundry duty. For life.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

I risked my first glance at Edward and found his lips turned slightly upward. My sights darted back to Sam.

The distant wail of an ambulance grew steadily louder. The blaring sirens made my head pound. Edward stood up as soon as the first paramedic looked around the van. He told the man how I’d hit my head. A stretcher was brought in around from the front of the cars, Sam moving aside to let the paramedics take his and Edward’s place.

I was asked a few questions related to gauging how bad my ‘head trauma’ was. A pen light was shined in my eyes while the other man put a neck brace on me. Then I was strapped to a gurney and carried back around the cars to the waiting ambulance.

It seemed like the whole school was watching. I’m not normally one to want to shrink and hide, but having so many stares on me while I laid strapped down to a gurney did it. Sam trailed after, all the way to the ambulance doors as I was loaded in, until he was told he couldn’t ride along. When they informed Sam he could follow after neither of us bothered to mention he was only fifteen.

Having been involved himself, Edward got to ride up front.

Sirens off, the hospital was a twenty-minute ride from the school. Strapped down and immobilized, it was a very uncomfortable journey—especially knowing that something not human was sitting with us in the vehicle. The moment the van bounced off Edward’s hands kept replaying in my mind’s eye. I started making a mental list of human-looking creatures that had superstrength.

Topped by things like witches and demons, it wasn’t a very good one.

But he had saved my life. That fact kept circling around my head. How bad could he be if he’d jumped in to save me?

Of course, there was the fact he’d looked like he wanted to kill me that first day in class.

The confusion accompanied me all the way into the hospital. Transferred onto a bed in the emergency room, I let the nurses take my vitals again. I was halfway through getting my blood pressure taken when another stretcher was brought in. A boy I recognized from my Government class lay on it, looking much worse off. Bandages covered in blood were wrapped around his head. Despite all that, he seemed more worried about me. “I’m so sorry, Sarah!”

“It’s fine.” The rip of Velcro punctuated my statement as the nurse removed my cuff. “I’m fine.” As another nurse began unwrapping the bandages, exposing a nasty looking gash over his cheek, I winced in sympathy. “Looks like you got the worst of it.”

“I didn’t think you’d get out of the way in time,” he went on.

I wasn’t sure what to say. If it hadn’t been for Edward, I wouldn’t have. “Edward Cullen pulled me away.”

“Who?” he asked, turning to look and wincing.

“Edward Cullen?”

“Oh. I didn’t even see him.”

That’s right. Edward was standing six spaces away. I mentally added superspeed to the list of Edward Cullen’s inhuman traits.

On the plus side, that ruled out demon and ghoul.

I was then wheeled off to X-Rays. When I was brought back, a familiar face was waiting for me.

“Sam,” I said, relieved he’d managed to get the truck there without incident.

He summoned a weak smile before his lips fell. “Dad’s not picking up.”

I expected as much.

“So I called _Uncle_ Bobby,” Sam went on. “He’s getting on a flight to Port Angeles.”

“Awesome,” I sighed. Bobby Singer was not going to be happy about having to catch a sudden flight out of Sioux Falls. I glanced around. The boy, Tyler, was gone. Probably for his own X-Ray. The nurses were back at their station. “You find the morgue?” I asked softly.

“Haven’t looked yet,” Sam admitted. At my, “Why the hell not?” he glared. “You were off in X-Rays. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” His tone suggested I was an idiot for even asking.

“I’m _fine_ Sam. Just a headache. Go find that body.”

Arms folded, Sam shot me a mulish expression. “I’ll wait to hear that from the doctor.”

“By which time I’ll be released—since I’m _fine_ —and we’ll be leaving,” I fired back.

“Not until Bobby gets here to fill out the paperwork,” Sam reminded me. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

I huffed out an annoyed breath and rolled my eyes to the ceiling. What a waste of a perfect opportunity.

Sam stretched out his absurdly long legs and settled in for the wait. Now should have been the time to tell him about Cullen. Instead, I stared at the clock overhead.

It was almost an hour before Tyler was wheeled back in. “Sam, I’m really sorry,” he said before the nurse even had time to position his bed.

Sam leaned forward in his seat. “It’s alright,” he assured Tyler. “It’s not like you meant to hit us.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Both of you. I swear,” Tyler went on.

“Dude, that’s not necessary,” Sam said, sounding as nervous as I felt at the impassioned declaration. “Seriously. It’s fine.”

But Tyler kept up his stream of apologies and promises as the minutes ticked by. Sam, with infinite patience, tried to reassure him that none of it was necessary. Even going so far as to try switching the subject—but Tyler was sticking to his guns.

Thankfully, Edward chose that moment to make himself Tyler’s new target. “Hey, Edward,” he started as Edward stepped through the door, “I’m really sor—”

Edward stopped him with a raised hand. “No blood, no foul,” he said, grinning far too wide and with a strange sparkle in his eyes. Before Tyler could start in again, Edward took a seat at the edge of his bed. “What’s the verdict?”

“No idea. Doctor hasn’t been by yet.” I hoped he’d get here soon. Sam really needed to take a look at that body.

Edward smirked. “Lucky for you, I know people. I got you to the head of the line.”

I was about to ask what he was talking about when another perfect specimen of humanity walked in. A blonde man better looking than most male models smiled at me with brilliant teeth that belonged in a toothpaste commercial and strode over to my bed. He was just as pale as Edward, however, with the same bright amber eyes.

“Hello, Miss Winchester,” he greeted. Before I could get a word in, a penlight shone in my eye. I blinked, but the unbelievably handsome doctor was still standing there, real. “I’m Doctor Cullen.”

Of course he was. Foster father, but with the same impossible pale skin and eye coloring as Edward. Whatever Edward was, the doctor had to be, too.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as the light lowered. His expression was the definition of professional concern.

I had to swallow before I managed a, “Fine.”

He brought up a manilla folder and crossed over to a lightboard fixed to the wall. Dark film slid out of the folder and snapped into place. He flicked on the light. The picture of a human skull was illuminated. “Your x-rays look good,” he said as he studied the film.

I shot a ‘told-you-so’ look to Sam, who ignored it in favor of staring at the x-ray. “What about a concussion?”

The doctor hummed before stepping back over and reaching out for my head. Cool fingers pressed against my scalp. I held still as he probed the developing bump in the back, willing myself to endure the prodding. I’d suffered far worse on hunts. “Tender?” he asked.

“A little,” I admitted.

“Well,” he said, straightening back up as his hand fell to his side, “apart from a bump on the head, you’re remarkably lucky, considering the circumstances.”

I flashed a smile. “That’s me. Lucky.”

Sam scoffed from the chair. But I was more interested in Edward’s reaction as I watched him from the corner of my eye. He stilled, eyes widening slightly as he stared at me.

Doctor Cullen looked amused, if the smile and lightening of his eyes was anything to go by. “I’d say you’re clear to go home. But come back if you experience any dizziness or trouble with your eyesight. Alright?”

I nodded my acquiescence. Doctor Cullen treated me to another warm smile before striding over to Tyler’s bed. “You, on the other hand, may be with us for a bit longer.”

I glared at Sam. “I _told_ you I was fine.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

I looked over at Edward. “I guess you’re free to go.”

Edward met my steady gaze. “Someone has to spread the good news of our survival.”

“Well, I’m stuck until our uncle gets here,” I said, sliding out of the bed. I ignored a protesting twinge from my still smarting tailbone and the continual pounding in my head to put on an innocent smile. “I could use a soda or something, though. C’mon, Sam,” I slapped his shoulder. “You’re buying.” While Sam got to his feet, I paused by Edward, who was still standing by the doctor. “Is there a vending machine nearby?”

Doctor Cullen paused from his examination to glance up. “Down the hall, there’s an elevator. Second floor has a cafeteria.”

“Thanks,” I said, shining another smile at the room before heading out.

I sensed Sam follow as I walked the hall to the elevator. “Too easy,” I said, smug as could be.

Sam caught up beside me as we reached the buttons. Tucking his hands into his pockets, he peered down at me. “He’s right though. You were lucky.”

“Yeah.” Another awkward moment passed as I refrained from telling Sam the truth. Before I could wonder too hard about my silence, I was saved by the elevator’s cheerful ding. “C’mon,” I said, taking the lead inside. I glanced at the choice of buttons before pushing the button for the basement. Seemed the most likely choice for a morgue to me.

A short ride and a quick glance at a directional sign tacked to a wall later proved me right. When we didn’t pass anyone on the way, it seemed luck was still on my side.

The morgue turned out to be one long room, its eastern wall dominated by steel drawers that had to hold the bodies. The rest of the place was filled with a few examination tables that had the creepy features of drains and sinks, overhead lights, and a myriad of wheeled tables designed to hold equipment. A desk was pressed along the furthest most wall, with several cabinets rounding out the room’s sterile decor.

The place was empty. But it probably wouldn’t stay that way.

We wasted no time. Starting on opposite ends, we opened the refrigerated drawers and pulled out any slab that had a body bag on top. We weren’t certain what we were looking for, except that the victim would be male. Fortunately, there weren’t many to sort through, and the first three were all elderly—no kind of wounds to be found.

It was just under ten minutes before I pulled open a drawer in the middle row and unzipped the bag. A glance told me this was the man we were here for. “Here.”

Sam closed the drawer he’d been peering into and hurried to my side. The squeaking of his sneakers echoed throughout the room until he reached the opposite side of the slab. He leaned over and peered down at the unzipped portion of the bag. “Woah.”

The man’s face was twisted, forever frozen in a death mask of pain and fear. It was a sight I’d probably carry with me into my sleep for a good while. Apart from the grisly expression, the most telling thing was the chunks missing from the man’s neck. It looked like something had taken a bite and tore out the soft tissue. I could see bits of white and pink bone gleaming up at me. Whatever had done it had been able to not only tear through tendon and muscle, but break bone, too.

I pulled the zipper further down, revealing more of the damage. When we’d uncovered his lower arms, I stopped and stared. Not because there were any injuries more gruesome than the man’s neck, but because of the markings staring up at me.

Teeth markings.

“Are those…?” Sam began, quiet and subdued.

I stared at the perfect little red cuts the bites had made. “Yeah. Yeah, they are.”

Human. Whatever had done this, their teeth were just like a human’s.

Sam leaned closer to the body, squinting at the myriad of bites up and down both of the man’s arms. Including one in the palm of a hand. “Look,” he said, pointing at one set, then indicating another on my side of the table. “They’re different.”

I didn’t really want to get any closer, but mimicked Sam in an attempt to see what he did. “You sure?”

“Yeah. This one’s smaller.” He measured the set near him with his fingers. When he came over to the arm near me, he noticeably had to widen the distance between his index and thumb. “This one was bigger.”

“So there are two.”

“At least,” Sam confirmed. He straightened to his full six-foot-two and looked around. “Where’s the autopsy report? Think they kept it down here?”

“Probably not,” I replied, frowning. “One things for sure, though. This ain’t no animal attack.”

Sam and I shared a look of perfect understanding.

The sudden shrill ring of a cellphone had us jumping. It echoed, impossibly loud, within the cavernous room. I gaped as Sam dug in his pockets. “Hurry up!”

“I’m trying,” he hissed back, even as the phone let out another ear-piercing shriek. I turned towards the door, heart picking up as I almost expected someone to hear and come looking.

The ringing finally, blessedly, cut off with an uncertain, “Hello?” from Sam. There was a moment’s silence where I turned to look back in time to catch Sam wincing. “Uh. It’s for you,” he said, thrusting the cell at me.

Brows pressed together in confusion, I took it and pressed it to an ear. “Hello?”

“Where the hell are you two idjits at?” Bobby demanded, voice nearly as low as ours had been, as if he were worried about being overheard. “The Sheriff is here looking for you right now.”

I glared at Sam, who widened his eyes in an attempt at innocence and shrugged, before rolling my own and cradling the phone with my shoulder. I started to zip the body back up. “Yeah, um. Sorry. Just—had to use the lady’s room.”

“I’m sorry. I must be squalling like a bitty baby right now. ‘Cause that’s the only way I figure you’d treat me like I was born yesterday!” Bobby snapped as quietly as he could on the other end, prompting another wince out of me. “I don’t know what you two are up to, and frankly, I don’t care. But you better get your butts moving.”

“Alright, alright. Jeez, Bobby!” I rushed to shove the shelf back in. Sam helped, and together we managed to roll it back into the refrigerator. Shutting the door, we hurried for the exit. “We’re goin’!”

“You better be,” Bobby insisted before the other end of the call went dead.

“That was a quick flight,” Sam said as we double-timed it back to the elevator.

Despite my still aching head, I could only nod in agreement. As the elevator doors slid shut, I stared at our reflections. In my mind’s eye, I pictured Edward’s hands once again pushing back that sliding van. But now a vision of a body, mauled with human teeth marks, joined it.

Two impossible things could have been a coincidence.

I really hoped it was a coincidence.


	5. Interruptions

It took another hour to finish up all the paperwork. Fortunately, all Chief Swan wanted was a statement about the accident. I had no problem keeping Edward’s role to just tugging me out of the way. The chief wouldn’t have believed the truth even if I’d been inclined to tell him.

He was impressed with Edward’s actions, though.

Free to leave after Bobby finished signing, we took off. The roads had thawed enough that I was comfortable letting Sam drive the Ford back to the house. Bobby followed in a rental. Everyone made it back without incident.

“Are you staying overnight?” Sam asked as Bobby climbed out of the car.

Bobby gave a single, short nod. “Might as well.” He went to the trunk and pulled out a duffle not dissimilar from mine or Sam’s. “Engine on that truck sounded off,” he added, chin jutting towards the Ford as we all walked up the rest of the driveway for the sidewalk. “I’ll take a look at it tomorrow.”

Once inside, Bobby claimed the couch by planting his bag on the floor beside it and strode into the kitchen. The refrigerator door rattled as he pulled it open and peered inside. “No beer?” he grumped.

“It’s been me and Sam, Bobby,” I pointed out.

Bobby glanced over his shoulder. “Right,” he muttered, disappointed. Straightening back up, he swung the door shut. He looked Sam’s way as he leaned against the counter. “Shouldn’t you be back at school?”

Sam slipped his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Only one class left.”

Bobby grunted. “Fair enough.” He glanced at the clock. “Well, ‘spose I ought to make a quick trip to the store. You two need anything?”

“A few more tv dinners wouldn’t hurt,” I replied.

Bobby frowned. “Neither of you are cooking?”

Sam and I exchanged a puzzled look before shaking our heads. Moving from motel to motel, we rarely had a stove in the room to cook on. We’d grown up on food from diners and drive-through. Cooking was a skill outside our wheelhouse.

Bobby blew out an exasperated breath and crossed the floor. “I’ll get some hamburger. Show you how to make sloppy joes.”

Later that night, Bobby made good on his promise. It was the first homecooked meal we’d had since we’d stayed at his place the year before.

[ = = = ]

The next day at school, the near miss was big news. Everyone treated me like a hero for pulling Sam out of the way. Curiously, there wasn’t near the same reaction when I said Edward had saved me. After a moment of surprise, they gave some justification that allowed them to brush Edward’s actions away to the back of their mind. He was already there, they reasoned. He just reacted.

I’d once thought I was the only one who picked up on the strange vibe Edward gave off—the instinct to get away. I was beginning to think it wasn’t just a Hunter thing. Everyone must get that feeling, and they were listening to it—even if they had to rationalize it to themselves.

At lunch, there had been what looked like a spirited conversation at the Cullen’s customary table. Edward looked put out, tossing bits of food down on his plate while the others—particularly Rosalie—argued some point with him.

Unfortunately, finding myself the center of attention at my own corner of the cafeteria didn’t give me much opportunity to watch the drama. Even Sam’s table was suddenly crowded with people. He didn’t have a single book out that day as he fielded questions.

Later at Biology, apart from a short nod at my greeting, Edward kept to himself that day in class. Lips pressed tightly together as he kept his eyes on his book or on the board, I took the hint and left him alone. That didn’t make it any easier to concentrate on the material. I had too many questions left unanswered. Too many uncertainties about the boy beside me.

What was he? Was he a threat? Did he have anything to do with the security guard’s death?

He raced out of the room as soon as the bell rang. I’d expected it. It was clear that he wasn’t interested in getting to know me any longer. As I walked to Gym, Mike talking at my side, I had mixed feelings about Edward ignoring me. It was probably for the best, but the thought irritated me.

My spikes and serves were harsher than normal.

Bobby was still at the house when Sam and I got back from school. As soon as he saw us come in, he left the kitchen table and one of his ever-present books to put his coat on. “I’m gonna take a look at that truck,” he said before heading outside.

I wandered over to the table, glancing down at the open pages of Bobby’s light reading. The book was in Latin.

Considering everything Bobby knew about the supernatural, I decided to see if I could somehow get an idea about the creature that had killed that man at the Mill. Maybe even learn what Edward was… without letting Bobby know why I was asking.

Grabbing a can of beer from the fridge, I headed outside.

The truck’s hood was up and Bobby was leaning over the exposed engine. I lifted the beer as I approached. “I come bearing gifts.”

“Bribes, more like,” Bobby retorted. He still took the beer, though. The can cracked as he pried open the top. He took a deep drink.

I leaned against the side, peeking over at the Ford’s guts. Unfortunately, I wasn’t a gearhead like Dean. Apart from changing the oil and a tire, I was mostly in the dark when it came to cars. “What’s the verdict?”

“Nothin’ wrong that I wouldn’t expect in an old truck like this,” Bobby replied after wiping his mouth off with his sleeve. “Spark plugs could use replacing. Radiator hose has seen better days.”

“Thanks for letting us use it.”

Bobby shrugged off my gratitude. “Was gathering dust.” He returned to working at a bolt beside what I assumed was the radiator hose. “We gonna talk about what happened?”

I blinked. “What happened?”

“Don’t play dumb.” The wrench stilled as Bobby met my stare. “Yesterday at the hospital. You and Sam disappearing on the staff.”

Damn. I’d hoped his silence the night before meant he was going to let that go. “Oh. That.”

Bobby fixed me with another look. “Yes. That.”

Lips pressed into a thin line, I shrugged.

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with that animal attack the next county over, would it?” Startled, my eyes widened as I shifted. Bobby snorted before turning back to the engine. “I’ve been at this game a lot longer than you, Nancy Drew.” He arched a brow at me. “So what d’you find?”

Lips pressed together in a grimace, I acknowledged defeat. At least he didn’t know about Edward. “Apart from the guy’s neck having been ripped open? A ton of human bite marks.”

Bobby frowned and turned back to the engine. “Hm.” He gave the bolt another crank.

“I mean, that’s not a ghoul, is it?” I yammered. Bobby slid a side-eyed glance my way before his sights fell away. “They wouldn’t leave so much flesh on the bone.” Or so I understood.

Bobby grunted, “You ain’t wrong.”

Lips pursed and eyes narrowing, I realized the too-relaxed expression on his face as he peered into the inner workings of the Ford had to be a farce. “That’s it?” I loosed an disbelieving huff. “I tell you something with human teeth bit into this guy, ripped his neck out, and that’s all you have to say about it?”

Annoyance colored Bobby’s pressed brows and sharp eyes as he met my incredulous stare. “You expectin’ me to faint, girl?” He shook his head and gave the wrench a hard pull. “Ain’t the worst wounds I ever seen, let alone heard of.”

“No,” I defended, grabbing the edge of the truck’s frame. “I just—c’mon, Bobby. Some monster killed him.” I studied his face, confused by the lack of concern there. “Don’t you want to know what? Find it and gank it?” Bobby paused to glare at me, and I could see he was about to unleash another volley of curmudgeonly insults my way, but an epiphany struck. “Unless you already know what got him.”

Bobby grumped as he turned back to the engine.

“You _do_ ,” I accused. “Why are you just sittin’ here, then?!”

“’Cause right now, I’m mindin’ the two of you,” he snapped back, slapping the wrench down with a loud bang that had me wincing. He huffed out another irritated breath and fixed me with a serious stare. “Besides, this area ain’t without hunters of its own.”

“Like who?” I threw my hands up and made a show of looking around. “’Cause I don’t see any hunters here ‘cept you and me.”

“You ain’t a hunter!”

The furious retort echoed around the massive yard, all the way to the trees.

A hot ball of anger sparked and grew in my belly before making its way up all the way to my neck and face. Pushing off the truck, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my hoodie and glared.

Head bowing, Bobby exhaled a long, slow breath. Lifting his head back up, he met my furious stare with insulting ease. “Listen, kid. I know you’re itchin’ to get out there with your ol’ man.” He pulled off his baseball cap to reveal a head of thinning dark hair that he ran his hand through. “But you ain’t there yet.” He fit his cap back on and fixed me with serious eyes full of concern. “Don’t be in such a hurry to throw yourself into this crap.”

“Something killed that man,” I insisted through clenched teeth.

“And it’ll get what’s comin’.” Bobby turned back to the engine. “Just not from you.”

“So you’re not going to tell me anything, is that it?” I squeezed my hands into fists.

Bobby’s wrench smacked into the side of the truck again before he glared over at me. “Why don’t you try worrying about normal things for a change?” The wrench clanged against the metal body as he shoved it back in without a whole lot of care. The bolt gave a creaking protest as he yanked at it. “Grades and boys and getting asked to the dance.”

I stared, mystified and more than a little offended. “With all that goes on out there that no one knows about? The people that get hurt or killed? What’s any of that stupid high school stuff matter?”

Bobby leaned on his arms before pushing himself up. He wasn’t as tall as Sam, but he was tall enough to loom over me. “Because it’s what girls your age are _supposed_ to care about, Sarah. The world will always be a crap place even without the monsters and demons. High school’s there to help you figure some of the practical stuff out before throwing yourself headfirst into crazy town.”

“Dean never got this lecture,” I snapped.

“Sure he did.” Bobby replied, surprising me. “I told him the same thing I’m telling you. Don’t know why I bother,” he muttered archly as he moved back over the engine. “You Winchesters are more stubborn than mules.”

“That’s right.” I pressed against the side of the truck, willing Bobby to meet my eyes. He stayed down, fiddling with the radiator hose. I ground my teeth. “So you might as well tell me what you know about the security guard.”

Bobby looked up, frowning, and shot back, “I ain’t got to tell you squat.”

I gripped the side of the truck. I couldn’t think of a way to persuade Bobby short of whining to him till he either broke or shot me. “Enjoy the beer.”

He waved off my snide tone with a, “I will,” as I marched back for the house.

But the anger stayed with me past the threshold, burning in my gut. I couldn’t look around without wanting to kick something. I continued through to the kitchen and its back door. The screen door hit the side of the house with a bang. I didn’t care. I marched across the backyard to the trees, found the old trail, and took off.

I hiked the trail at a furious pace. I kicked at the moss-covered rocks and ripped leaves off the branches blocking my way as I slapped them aside. Each day in school felt more restless than the last. Sammy was fifteen and more than capable of looking after himself.

I was starting to wonder if Dad thought like Bobby. Was he holding me back from the big hunts because I was the _princess_ Dean always mockingly called me? The notion made my blood boil. I was the best shot in the family, hands down. I could hold my own with Dean if I had to—by using dirty tricks, but still. Maybe I wasn’t as smart as Sam, but I wasn’t stupid, either.

I had stomped a good mile down the trail, letting the angry thoughts fester in my head, when I heard the snap of a branch less than ten feet away. I rounded, gun drawn and pointed.

Across the distance, between the trees, a doe stared at me.

I lifted my hand, pointing the muzzle up at the sky. We stood, human and deer, for several long moments. The soft light of the forest gentled her already lissome features. Her big eyes fixed on me. Her nose twitched as she sniffed the air between us.

The anger finally began to quiet.

A crack further within the forest startled us both. She bounded away in an elegant leap, hooves thudding against the omnipresent moss that carpeted the ground, displaying an innate grace that I felt lucky to witness.

I let out a long breath and leaned back against a nearby tree. I glanced down at the gun still in my hand and frowned, troubled by the thought of having fired before looking. Shifting, I settled it back inside its holster and let my hands fall against the rough, sharp-edged bark of the pine.

In the privacy of the woods, with nothing but the rustle of leaves and the occasional chirrup of a cricket to distract me, my calmer mind drifted to mystery of Edward Cullen. To the question of why he had saved me. He’d revealed himself, a fact which obviously worried him, judging by his behavior afterwards. Him and the rest of his family.

Everything I’d ever been taught told me he was dangerous. My _instincts_ said as much. I had yet to hear of something that wasn’t human, that was stronger or faster, that wasn’t a threat. That wouldn’t eventually maim or kill.

Maybe there were beings like that out there, though. Maybe we didn’t hear about them because we had no reason to go looking for them. Surely if evil existed, good had to be a thing too? Maybe there were powerful creatures out there who were looking after us. Or at least content to leave us be. Maybe Edward was one of them.

But there were too many troubling signs that I couldn’t as easily brush aside. The security guard who’d been killed by something that looked human. The shadow that had entered my room for reasons unknown my first night in Forks, followed by Edward’s disappearance. My gut said these things were connected.

Maybe I wasn’t as experienced a hunter as Bobby or my dad, but I wasn’t ignorant of what lurked in the dark, either. This wasn’t a salt and burn, sure, but it was _something_. I knew it. I just had to find out what.

I should’ve gone to my brother. Sam was a natural when it came to research. He beat the rest of us, even Dad, hands down when it came to finding some esoteric fact. He was brilliant at piecing clues together. He could figure out what Edward was.

But the way Edward had looked down at me after saving my life—how he’d silently pleaded not to tell—I just couldn’t bring Sam into this. Not until I knew, for certain, that Edward Cullen was a threat.

That Edward Cullen had to be hunted.

[ = = = ]

However I was going to discover Edward Cullen’s secret, speaking to him was not going to be it. The next day at school, it was obvious he was still ignoring me.

Traditionally, confronting a suspect wasn’t a very good idea anyway. That was a road which often led to dead bodies, either the hunter themselves or the innocent people surrounding them. The longer the suspect didn’t know they were in the crosshairs, the better.

So I settled for covert observation. I had to be careful not to let my gazes linger—or for there to be absolutely none at all. Either would have been unsual. My next few days of class went by with no further news on any killings. Edward didn’t lift anymore vehicles with his hands. He appeared grumpier than usual where his family was concerned. But apart from his peculiar stillness when sitting next to me, he didn’t do anything to shine a light on the mystery of what he was.

Not until the last day before the weekend, when Mike cornered me at my locker after lunch.

“I know it’s a few months away,” he began as I pulled out my biology text. After a small nervous laugh, Mike asked, “Would you go to the prom with me?”

The small mirror stuck to the inside of my locker door revealed my too-wide eyes and tight expression. I was careful to smooth my face into something close to neutral as I slid my book into my bag. Straightening up, I smiled at an anxious Mike. “I’m not going to be here that long,” I settled on. As Mike’s face fell, a stab of pity struck me between the ribs. “Sorry, Mike.”

“Hey,” he tried to play off with a shrug, forcing a smile that clearly wanted to fall to a frown, “I get it.” I watched quietly as he collected the remnants of pride around him like mismatched bits of armor. He stuck a thumb out towards our classroom. “I’ll, ah, see you inside.”

“Okay,” I agreed, but he’d already turned around and was hurrying off.

I blew out a breath, catching a bang and causing it to fall in front of my eyes. My next breath was more annoyed as I huffed at the stray lock of hair. Ultimately, it took a wayward swipe of my hand to hook it back behind my ear. I gave Mike a good head start before following.

Mike didn’t bother chatting with me at my station before class. He was back in his seat, thumbing through his book. I held back a sigh and sat down.

I was unloading my own book and notebook when that too-attractive voice I hadn’t heard in days bothered speaking to me. “Where are you going?”

I shifted on my stool, angling slightly to meet Edward’s curious stare. “What?”

“You’re planning on leaving.” His face had a strange tension to it. His eyes were severe.

I thought about my talk with Mike. I hadn’t seen Edward anywhere near us. “How’d you—” I stopped, hand gripping my pen even tighter. Had he been able to hear our conversation? A chill crawled down my spine as I realized I might have to add super hearing to the growing list of crazy abilities he possessed. Edward’s lips pressed into a line but relaxed a moment later. “I don’t think I’ve ever stayed anywhere longer than two months,” I told him.

That only seemed to intensify whatever emotions were going on behind those eyes.

“I don’t know where I’ll end up next.” Which was true. Wherever the latest case cropped up was where we’d go. It could be anywhere.

Edward slowly turned his head back to the front of the room. But his muscles were strained, his eyes narrowed and mouth pressed tightly together. Eventually his lips parted just enough to ask, “How long until you leave?”

I shrugged. “No idea. Whenever my dad finishes the job.” I bent my head back over my notebook. “Could be next week. Could be tomorrow.”

Class started and he didn’t speak again. He just stared at the board with a troubled look in his eyes.

He stayed like that until the bell rung. And, to my surprise, he lingered with the rest of us mere humans as I packed up my bag. For the first time, I realized I only reached Edward’s shoulder as he kept pace with me out of the classroom. He’d always raced away as if hellhounds nipped at his heels before. “We shouldn’t be friends.”

Startled, I paused. The people behind us shot us glances as they parted around us. I looked up to meet his serious expression. I couldn’t make heads or tails out of what he was talking about. “Okay?” Shaking my head, I made myself start moving again. “Thanks for the F.Y.I.”

Considering he could’ve kept up with superman, he had no trouble with me. “It’s a bad idea.”

I couldn’t argue with that. So I didn’t. I kept up my silent stride to gym, all the way to the girl’s locker room. When he made no show of parting for wherever his last class of the day might be, I ended up stalled near the door.

With a short, incredulous huff of laughter, he leaned on the wall beside me. He was watching the other students arrive. Amusement lightened his usually serious features, but it was an incredulous kind of delight. As if he found something so ludicrous, it was funny.

“You never did thank me.”

I blinked before looking up at him. He had a sardonic twist to his lips.

We were going to talk about it, apparently. Right outside of gym. I let myself stare at him, taking in the sight of his perfect features like I was admiring the genius of some marble statue, thinking of the secrets I was keeping from my family for him. He stared right back, lips levelling out into his typical serious, intense expression.

I met those bright topaz eyes and held them. “Thank you for saving my life.”

For a moment his eyes seemed to soften. Then he turned away, huffing out a breath. He looked down to the ground, shook his head, turned on his heel and took off.

Confused—and to my surprise a little hurt—I watched his back as he strode out the building into a grey afternoon.


	6. Friends

I wondered at Edward’s odd behavior the whole weekend. When I wasn’t turning over that last strange Friday, I was at the library, attempting to hunt down any books that might clue me in to what had attacked and killed that man—or answer the mystery of Edward Cullen. I checked the myths and legends section, scouring the books. Plenty of creatures could have been guilty, everything from changelings to cannibals. And there were too many super strong, super fast, super senses beings to attempt to whittle the list down.

I returned to school feeling like I’d run headfirst into an impenetrable wall. Until a small crack appeared at lunch, right after I noticed Edward was gone from the Cullen’s table again.

“What’s Edward Cullen doing?” Jessica wondered as we approached the register.

“What?” I looked back towards his corner of the cafeteria but found him still missing.

“He’s sitting by himself.” She nodded over to the opposite end of the room. Following her sights to a table near the hallway. There, seated where he had a view of everyone entering and leaving, sat Edward Cullen. He was watching me, and as soon as our eyes met, he smiled and motioned to me with his hand.

“Does he want you to join him?” Jessica asked, sounding almost insultingly incredulous.

I glanced her way before meeting his stare again. “Guess so.”

After paying for my meal, I took off for Edward’s lonely table. As I stepped up beside the chair across from him, I was momentarily taken aback by a bright, dazzling smile. “Why don’t you sit with me today?”

“Sure,” I answered, unable to believe my luck as I set my tray down. I noticed Edward’s side of the table was bare. “Not hungry?”

His answering smile was wide and accompanied by an amused gleam in his eyes. “No.”

Shrugging a shoulder, I settled into the seat and tore into the wrapper over my plastic spork and knife with my teeth. “Feelin’ alright?” I asked as I pulled the rest apart.

“Fine.” Something about this was hilarious, apparently.

“Kay,” I said, uncertain, before pointing at my plate with my spork. “You mind if I eat?”

He shook his head and leaned back in his seat with folded arms. “Please. Don’t starve on my account.”

I shot him a brief smile. “If you’re sure.” I went for the whole reason I chose mystery meat meal. Peach cobbler.

“Positive.” There was a moment of silence as he watched me eat and I watched him watching. “I thought I’d give it a try.”

The spork paused halfway to my mouth as I squinted at him, hoping it might make his words clearer. It didn’t. “What?”

“This.” He pointed at himself and then me.

A brow arched. “This.”

“Spending more time with you,” he clarified.

A strange flutter in my stomach threatened my appetite. I let my hand drift back down. “You said we can’t be friends.”

“I said we shouldn’t be friends,” he corrected. The intensity returned to his gaze.

I stuck my spork into the cobbler, breaking another corner free from the syrup. He was probably right. But I only knew from my angle why it was a bad idea. What about him? “Why?”

The downward turn of his mouth deepened. “I wouldn’t be a very good friend for you.”

Another dread chill moved through me. I forced a grin. “Planning to borrow money and not pay me back?”

“You don’t believe me.”

I believed him. But I had to get closer to find out more. I shrugged. “I think I should be the one to decide for myself whether or not you’re a friend worth having.”

He smiled. “You’re very brave.”

“Or just stupid.” I wiggled my brows.

His smile grew ever so slightly. “I think I’ve heard those two traits tend to go together.”

Thinking of Dean, I snorted. “I’ve always thought so,” I said before taking another bite of my cobbler.

His head tilted to the side as he paused to stare at something behind me. He grinned again and redirected his sights at me. “Your friends don’t like me very much.”

Brows pinching together, I twisted in my chair in time to catch Mike glaring at Edward. As soon as he noticed me looking, he looked away, back to Jessica and Angela.

I turned back to Edward. “They don’t know you.”

His smile turned into something sharp and cynical. “And you do?”

My own smile was brittle. “No.” Almost for comfort, I sought out Sam. He was sitting with a group of similarly aged boys, no books out. He must have given in to the attention from the van incident.

My gaze slid further away, to Edward’s typical table. His siblings seemed to be ignoring us—all except Rosalie. She watched us with her mouth firmly fixed in a disapproving frown. When our eyes met, her’s narrowed into angry slits.

I held that glare, my own stare impassive. More than anything else, I was curious as to how I’d earned her ire. “Speaking of which, your sister doesn’t seem to like me much.”

Caught in what was swiftly turning into a staring contest, I couldn’t see Edward’s reaction. “Rosalie doesn’t like it when things don’t go her way.”

“Life must be a pain in her ass then, huh?” I answered, still staring despite the fact my eyes were starting to sting.

Rosalie’s eyes narrowed even further, almost as if she’d heard me across the full, noisy cafeteria.

Emmett leaned over then, saying something near Rosalie’s ear. After a moment, her head turned away, and she redirected her glare to Emmett. It glanced harmlessly off a wide, carefree grin.

Free to blink, I did so, several times, before turning back towards Edward. He was observing me with something akin to fond amusement. As if I were an adorable kitten flexing her claws.

“So, not-friend,” I began, shaking my head slightly, “how do you stop vans with your hands?”

His good mood fell. The serious, searching stare was back. “It was an adrenalin rush.”

“Adrenalin rush,” I repeated flatly.

He gave a single, slow nod.

Wow. Did he really expect me to buy that? I shot him an incredulous look. “Uh huh.” I speared a wayward peach. I pointed at him with it. “Just so you know? You’re an awful liar.”

Even though his eyes remained guarded, his lips twitched. “It’s a common reaction. You can google it.”

Eyes narrowed, I popped the fruit into my mouth, chewing deliberately.

Brows furrowed, he stared across the cafeteria, out the windows. “You haven’t told anyone.” It was a statement, not a question. He knew I hadn’t.

“Who would believe me?” I retorted smoothly.

A strange look came over him, his brows lowering over thoughtful eyes. “Your Uncle.” I stilled, wondering how he knew Bobby would believe me, when he went on to say, “He’s… interesting.”

But how did he know Bobby? He’d never gone near the school with me and Sam. “When did you—”

“At the hospital. I stayed to speak to my father and overheard him talking with Chief Swan,” Edward replied.

I forced myself to swallow despite my suddenly dry throat. “What’s so interesting about him?” Edward quirked a brow. “Bobby’s a grumpy old mechanic. Not very interesting.” This time, my brows lifted. “Unless you’re into cars.”

“Not as much as Rosalie.” My surprise must’ve been easy to read, because he smiled. “She takes care of all of ours.”

“Huh.” Book, cover, judging I supposed. Sure hadn’t seen that coming.

“He seemed to think you were getting into trouble,” Edward went on.

Lips pressed into an unhappy line, I shrugged. “He usually does.” I stabbed the cobbler harder than strictly necessary.

“You seem like the sort to do that a lot.” At the slight questioning shake of my head, he clarified, “Get into trouble.”

I met his curious stare and smirked. “Absolutely.” I relaxed back in my seat. “I love trouble.”

He frowned, disapproval in the dip of his brows. “What trouble were you getting into at the hospital?”

Setting down the spork, I gave a short, scoffing laugh as I met his censure head on. “What do you _think_ I was doing?”

His frown deepened. “I don’t know.” Real frustration leaked into his voice, tightening it.

“C’mon, Edward.” He blinked. My smile brightened. “It’s a hospital. It’s _boring_.” I shrugged and picked up the spork again. “Sam and I found a waiting room with a big screen tv and watched some WWE.”

“Wrestling?” he said, doubtful. “Now who’s the bad liar?”

I made a show of being offended. “What? Girls can’t like wrestling?”

Edward arched a brow.

“Whenever Top Notch is in town, my dad takes me and my brothers to their show.” Eyes alight, I leaned forward. “You haven’t lived until you’ve seen Sugarbomb Sanchez do a super thunder fire powerbomb off the top rope.” He looked incredulous. I shrugged. His loss. Sugarbomb was _awesome_.

“Brothers,” Edward mused. He glanced at Sam.

Shit. He hadn’t known about Dean.

I kept my tone light and dismissive. “Yeah, Sam’s my younger brother. Dean’s the older.” I paused before adding, “Oldest.”

“Is he in college?”

That drew out a snort of laughter that had me covering my mouth, glad I hadn’t just taken a bite. At Edward’s amused reaction, I cleared my throat and let my hand fall. “Um. No.”

“What’s funny?” Edward wondered.

I shook my head. “The only way you’d get Dean on a college campus is for a job or a sorority girl’s party.” The last one had my face screwed up disgust. I mentally shook away the image before adding, “Dean couldn’t drop out of high school fast enough.”

Edward looked inordinately fascinated, considering he’d never even heard of Dean before now. “What does he do?”

“Works with my dad.” I didn’t have to lie about that.

“The family business,” he said, tone thoughtful.

I nodded.

“What’s your father like?”

I paused, glancing up from my plate. “Dad?” At his nod, I let myself slide further down my chair with a shrug. “He works a lot, so it’s mostly just me and Sam. He was military, though.” I straightened up in my chair, firming up my spine and leveling my shoulders with a stern look. “Sit up straight. Perfect corners on the bed. Clothes folded at the seams.” I let myself relax.

“So he’s strict?” Edward asked.

I hummed. “Depends. Some things more than others. Long as we mind ourselves and do as he says, he’s pretty live and let live.” I drew my soda over and unscrewed the cap. “How about yours? Bet it’s tough to ditch school.”

That strange, amused look pulled his lips into a small, secretive smile. It was both maddening and a little heart-stopping. “I’m planning on ditching biology, actually.”

That got my brows up. “Really? Top student Edward Cullen ditches Bio?” I faked a gasp. “Shocking!”

“Ditching every once and a while is healthy, you know,” he retorted, but the smile was still there.

“Oh, I’m a firm believer. No need to convert.” I poked at the meat, then decided not to risk it and let my spork fall onto the plate. “What are you planning on doing?” I asked before taking a drink.

He glanced at the abandoned meal before meeting my eyes again. “Listen to music.”

“What kind?”

His smile was slanted. “The kind you probably wouldn’t like.” At my inquisitive brow he said, “Debussy?”

My nose crinkled. “Is that some new indie group?”

His soft chuckle was as attractive as the rest of him. “No. Quite the opposite, actually. Claude Debussy was a French composer in the late nineteenth century.”

Well, color me a cultureless rube. “Ah.” I fixed another smile to my face. “Cool.”

He leaned forward slightly, expression intent. “What’s your favorite music?”

I tore at the label wrapped around the soda bottle. “Anything that’s not mullet rock. I’ve heard enough Metallica and AC/DC to last several lifetimes.” He looked as if he were about to ask, so I added, “My brother’s a major dork for eighties rock. It’s all he ever plays.” I grimaced as I remembered, “I have literally listened to Back in Black, over and over, for the entirety of a cross country trip.”

He smirked. I was torn between the unfair bad boy edge he took on and the fact he was amused at my expense. I settled for responding to neither. Instead, noticing everyone else was starting to head for the trashcans, I flicked my hair back and picked up my tray. “Have fun ditching,” I said as I stood.

He smiled, sliding the soda bottle wrapper to him and starting to fold it. “Enjoy class.”

As I walked to the trashcans, I realized I hadn’t gotten many answers. Instead, he’d distracted me. It was hard not responding to his questions when he looked so interested in the answers.

I did learn a few things. Rosalie was not what she seemed, and it was a safe bet that neither were the others. I was almost positive she’d heard me across the room. That matched with Edward somehow overhearing Mike the day before.

As I walked across the grounds, I wondered why Edward had chosen to stop avoiding me. What had changed? Not even directly bringing up his impossible feat with the van had scared him off.

And I couldn’t help but wonder, what was he really up to, ditching?

I was tempted to try and follow him, but if his hearing was as good as I suspected, I doubt I’d be able to sneak around him. Not to mention my attendance was pretty much the only thing saving me from outright failing the class. So I kept to my schedule and hoped I wasn’t missing anything important.

The class Edward chose to skip dealt with blood typing. We had to prick our fingers and apply a drop of blood to a card to figure out our blood types. I already knew mine but did the exercise anyway. One of the guys, Lee Stephens, nearly fainted and had to be carried out by Mike.

With half of my table empty, Mike was free to stop by after returning from the Nurse’s office. “Hey, Sarah.”

Examining my pink band aid, I asked, “Hm?”

“You up for a trip this weekend?”

Cautious, I turned to meet Mike’s crooked grin. “Trip?”

“Yeah. We’re going down to First Beach in La Push.” Mike leaned on my table, eyes glancing down at my card.

I let my bandaged hand fall. “We?”

“Eric, Jessica, Angela, Lauren—you know, the group.” He met my eyes. “We’d have asked but—”

“I was sitting with Edward Cullen,” I finished. I settled onto my elbows, laying my chin on my folded hands. “Sure, Mike. Sounds fun.” I hadn’t met a beach I didn’t like.

…Well, except the one with the selkies.

“Awesome,” Mike replied, jumping back up—and nearly bumping into Mr. Banner. A look sent Mike back to his normal seat.

When school was finished, I noticed Edward standing by his Volvo. His sights followed me across the parking lot, even after his brothers and sisters got into the car. I smiled and lifted a hand in a wave. He did the same.

Friends.

[ = = = ]

There was an unusual break in the perpetual overcast that hovered over Forks for the rest of the week. Sam and I both ended up basking in the sunlight—him, studying outside. Me, sunbathing on the porch.

However, there was no repeat of my lunch with Edward. In fact, all the Cullens were missing from their usual table. A fact I pointed out Thursday. “The Cullens have been gone three days now.”

“Whenever the weather’s nice, Doctor Cullen and his wife take them camping,” Angela informed me.

Yeah. There was no way that was true. But I pasted an impressed look on my face. “Nice.”

“I know,” Jessica bemoaned. “I tried that with my parents and total no go.”

My days seemed both slower and somehow more tense. Without Edward to distract me, the days dragged on horribly. I found myself drifting off, wondering what he was doing, rather than paying attention in class. But the fact they were gone also hung over my head like a sword waiting to fall. There had to be another reason they weren’t in school. The possibilities of what was happening while they were gone haunted me.

But it wasn’t until Friday afternoon that I realized I was in real trouble.

I was walking with Mike after Gym when I spotted a conspicuous car parked at the lot’s front sidewalk—right where no one could miss it. Nor could they miss the six-foot-one green-eyed dork in the leather jacket leaning against the hood, trying to look cool. “Shit.”

“What?” Mike asked.

Instead of answering, I let out the scowl that was itching to get loose and marched up to the Impala.

“Hey, Kid! How’s it—ow!”

Dean angled away as I threw my next punch at his arm, managing to deflect it with his own raised hand as he instinctively fell into a defensive stance. “The hell are you doing here, you Ass?!”

“What am I doing here?” He twisted away with a, “Hey!” from my left hook. “The hell have you been doing here?!”

Aware I was drawing a crowd, I halted my attempts to knock sense into my stupid brother and settled for a glare. “You left dad alone?”

A flash of anger lit up Dean’s return glare. “You think I wanted to? He sent me back to keep an eye on you two.” His lips pressed into a thin pale line before he added, “Yeah. Babysitting duty. Since someone can’t keep their damn nose from going where it don’t belong!”

“Screw you,” I snapped, shouldering my bag and rounding the Impala for the truck.

“Awesome to see you too, princess!” Dean shouted as I stomped away. “I’m fine, by the way!” he went on as I ground my teeth together and kept walking. “Thanks for asking!”

I slammed the door of the truck harder than necessary.

“Guess Bobby got a hold of Dad,” Sam said as he stared down at an open book in his lap.

My forehead hit the steering wheel.


	7. Legends

Dean spent the rest of the afternoon and evening catching us up on what he and Dad had been doing out in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest. It involved a lot of hiking. They’d also done some exhumation of bodies. The last thing he finished telling us was how they’d had to run from a couple of Rangers who’d been investigating the latest murder and thought Dean and Dad had been asking too many questions.

“Dad sent me back in the Impala,” Dean said around a mouthful of hamburger he’d picked up before starting in on the Rangers. “She’s too hot to keep in the area.”

“So it wasn’t my fault,” I groused, pointing a fry at him.

Dean took another bite before adding, “Totally was.”

“Bobby?” Sam asked.

Dean nodded. “Had a message waiting for him that took up the whole time for the voice mail. Then he called back and filled up another one.”

I winced. “That’s just overkill.”

Dean shrugged before popping a fry into his mouth. “He ain’t happy,” he informed me matter-of-factly.

“Bobby?”

But Dean shook his head. “Dad.”

 _Great_. “So what is it?” I asked.

Staring at his soda cup, Dean kept chewing.

“Dean?”

After a minute, he swallowed before lifting his sights to meet mine. “I’m not supposed to say.”

Sam and I both stared at him, shocked. “What?” I asked as Sam questioned, “Why?”

Dean grabbed a napkin and rubbed at his mouth. “Because Bobby’s got Dad convinced you two meant to go after it yourselves.” He tossed the napkin down and added, “And that’d be a seriously bad idea.”

“So, what?” Sam said, brows pinched together. “It’s some demon?”

“Look, it isn’t the thing that killed mom, alright? Beyond that, I’m not pissing Dad off by giving you two any ideas.” Dean grabbed the fast-food bag and stood up. “End of discussion,” he said as he threw it into the trash.

After eating Dean ended out passing out on the couch and didn’t stir until late the next morning. Sam and I tiptoed around him, quietly munching on cereal and retreating to our rooms until we heard him stirring downstairs.

Dean had his own bowl of frosted flakes out when I found him awake and sitting on the couch. As he munched through a spoonful, I noticed a machete was lying on the coffee table. And not just any machete. This one looked old, with strange symbols scratched into the blade, and along the edge—

“Is that dried blood?” Nose crinkled, I reached for the handle.

Dean got to it first, yanking the machete away. “Don’t touch my stuff,” he warned, setting his cereal down.

“Dude, clean that blade. You’re gonna ruin it.”

With an exasperated look, Dean shoved the machete back into a leather holster at his belt. “Mind your own weapons.” He took up the remote and started flipping channels. “You cleaned that twenty-two since firing it?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes.”

Lips pursed and brows twitching upwards, Dean’s sights fell back to the tv. “Well. Good.” His eyes narrowed before they darted back to me. “What happened, anyway?”

“Dad didn’t say?” I asked, flopping down into the nearby recliner.

Dean shrugged. “Said you shot something in your room. That you didn’t get a good look at it.”

“Yep.” A moment of spying a myriad of people walking around in white lab coats and I remembered TNT played reruns of Dr. Sexy, M.D. on Saturday. A pair of doctors were arguing in a hallway outside a patient’s room. Given how close they were standing while staring each other down, the sexual tension was thick enough to cut with that machete Dean was hiding.

“Hasn’t been back since?” Dean further prodded.

“Nope.”

“That you know of,” Dean muttered, more to himself than to me.

It was a notion that had me finally looking over. “I think I’d notice if something was skulking around my room, Dean.”

“Unless it hasn’t gone in your room.” Dean stood up, walked round the coffee table, and headed for the stairs.

He was already at the top and striding into my temporary bedroom by the time I was halfway up after him. “Dean?”

“Relax,” he called. “I’m not after your diary.” I walked in to find him at the window, curtain shoved aside as he peered out into the backyard. A thoughtful frown gave an unusually serious cast to his face as he stared into the woods. “It doesn’t have to come in to watch you.” He nodded to a nearby tree at the edge of the house. “Not if it can climb.”

The hairs on the back of my arms rose. “Okay. Thanks for those nightmares.” I folded my arms to get some warmth back into them and leaned against the doorframe. “Why do you even think it came back?”

Dean hummed and let the curtain fall. “Not saying it did. Just that it could.” He turned and regarded me from the window, that serious expression still in place. “There hasn’t been _anything_ odd since that night?”

Lips pursed, I shook my head before saying, “No. Nothing.” Unless one counted the superpowered family of mysteriously pale people at my school.

Dean took another final glance out the window before nodding himself. “Alright. Must’ve been a one-off thing then.” His brows furrowed, as if trying to figure something out. After a moment, his gaze fell back on me. “Guess you scared it off.”

“That’s what I told Dad,” I reminded him.

“Well, lucky you had that gun and knew how to use it,” Dean said, grim. He slid sideways past me and back into the hall.

I followed, nearly on his heels. “Why’d you say that?”

“You kidding me?” Dean demanded, glancing over his shoulder before bounding down the stairs. “Who knows what could’ve happened.”

I thought of Edward protecting me from the van. If the shadow had been Edward, which I still hadn’t ruled out, why would he save me if he’d meant to hurt me less than a few weeks earlier? “Maybe he was just curious.”

Dean paused on his way to the couch to turn and give me the full effect of his skepticism. “You can’t be serious.”

I shrugged. “I mean… he was just standing there. Watching.”

“Uh. First of all? _Creepy_. Second of all? How do you know it wasn’t deciding the best place to start snacking. Or worse.”

“Worse?”

Dean shook his head as he turned and walked back to the couch. “Don’t make me spell stuff out, Sarah,” he gruffed before sitting down. “I don’t want to think it, let alone say it.”

Oh.

I hadn’t even considered anything other than being maimed, possibly killed, but Dean had a point.

But that wouldn’t be Edward. He could barely sit next to me without tensing up. Every time he was close to me it was as if he was a spooked horse waiting to bolt from the room. He didn’t seem the slightest bit interested in touching me.

But the thought brought up memories of his too-perfect face and serious eyes that lightened to honey whenever he smiled.

I fell back into the recliner, watching the white-coated doctor and intern of Doctor Sexy now making out in one of the break rooms. Their kisses were frantic, hands sliding off lab coats and lifting blue scrubs. I looked away, embarrassed at the thought of being caught staring at the scene by Dean.

I was about to leave the living room all together when the burner I kept on me rang. It was the one I’d given out at school. Dean glanced over as I answered. “Hey.”

“Hi, Sarah,” Angela greeted on the other end. “Mike said he forgot to mention when we’d be meeting.”

“Oh, for La Push. Right.” I sat up straighter, finally managing to banish thoughts of Edward as I remembered promising to go with the group to the beach. “When and where?”

“An hour in front of Mike’s dad’s shop.” She paused a moment before asking, “Do you know where that is?”

“Um, I’m guessing somewhere down main street?”

I could hear the smile as she replied, “Yeah. It’s a little further north of the diner. You can’t miss it.”

“Cool.” I kicked the foot stand back into the seat. “I’ll be there.”

“Great. See you.”

“Yep,” I replied, before adding a quick, “bye,” and ending the call.

Dean leaned over the couch’s arm. “Who was that?”

“A friend. Angela.”

“She cute?”

My whole body cringed. “She’s seventeen,” I replied, revolted at the idea.

“You say that like she’s jailbait or something,” Dean replied, still looking far too interested. “So? Is she cute?”

“I’m not hooking you up with my friends, you ass,” I retorted before hopping out of the chair. “Especially not someone as nice as Angela.”

Dean ignored the insult. “What’s in La Push?”

“A place called None of Your Business, just outside of Go To Hell.”

“C’mon Sarah,” He cajoled. “I’m supposed to keep an eye on you. Dad’s orders.”

I was about to tell him to butt out again but realized I was probably already in deep enough with Dad. I relented with a grudgingly stated, “First Beach.”

I hated the way Dean’s eyes lit up. “A beach, huh. Sounds fun.”

I knew exactly what he was thinking. “You realize it’s, like, fifty degrees out, right?” I crossed my arms and frowned. “No bikinis.”

As I suspected, a little of the excitement drained away. He still looked entirely too interested, however. “When we going?”

“I’m going in forty-five minutes. You’re staying here.”

“Dad’s Orders,” Dean repeated, a smug grin on his face.

I threw up my hands. “Why?! It’s a bunch of high schoolers hanging out. Aren’t you a little old for that?”

“I’m nineteen,” he said, sounding insulted, “not forty.”

“Whatever.” I whirled on the ball of my foot and headed for the stairs. Dean would do whatever he wanted. I just hoped Jessica, Angela, and Lauren had enough sense not to fall for his crap.

I threw on a white tank under a flannel and my denim jacket. Then went to put my hair up into a ponytail and throw on some eyeshadow. A pair of boots comfortable for walking in wet sand or hiking through mud completed the ensemble.

Done, I snuck down the stairs and, seeing Dean wasn’t in the living room, walked as quietly and quickly for the door as I could. I winced at the groan it gave as it opened and shut, but then hurried down the steps for the truck, thinking I’d managed to sneak out.

No such luck. Dean was already seated in the Impala, smirking like he knew exactly what I’d planned.

Giving in to fate, I changed course for the car. Shutting the door with a loud creak, I settled into the familiar leather passenger seat. I tilted my head to the side and had to deal with Dean’s smug face. “Just try not to embarrass me,” I pleaded.

Dean’s brow lifted. “Princess, it’s the other way round.” The car started with a roar that settled into a rumbling purr. Dean threw an arm over the seat and turned to look as he backed out.

“I’m serious, Dean,” I tried once more. “No hitting on my friends.” My nose crinkled as my lips twisted with disgust. “It’s weird.”

Dean turned back to the wheel as he took off roaring down the street. “What if they hit on me?” He asked, the twinkle back in his eyes as he grinned.

“Then their judgement is obviously impaired, and you shouldn’t take advantage.”

Dean popped a tape from the cassette player and flipped it over before shoving it back in. The opening riff for Guns N’ Roses’ _My Michelle_ twanged out of the speakers. By the time the music changed tempo and blasted out the speakers, Dean was ‘singing’ along.

Propping my elbow up on the car door, I let my head rest in my hand and watched as the buildings raced by. It was ten minutes and the middle of _Sweet Child o’ Mine_ by the time we reached Mike’s store. The Impala’s rumble attracted the attention of the group seated around Mike’s Suburban and Tyler’s new Sentra.

I had the door open and was out as soon as Dean had shifted into park. “Hey, guys.”

“Hey,” Mike answered, uncertainty coloring his voice. “Isn’t that the guy you were hitting Friday afternoon?”

Dean had bent his head low enough to look out the passenger window and was showing off his most charming smile.

I closed my eyes and prayed to whoever might be listening for patience. “Yeah,” I admitted as soon as my eyes were open. Reluctantly I added, “My brother wants to tag along.”

There were various exchanges of glances and a round of assent from the assembled group. I mustered a smile and a thanks before I was sucked back into the eighties as we got on the road. This time we followed Eric and Tyler as they drove to the La Push reservation.

The day was back to Fork’s typical dreary gray. The road cut a winding path between the trees that loomed to either side. It was still green out despite the cold weather and stayed that way as we travelled down the interstate.

An few minutes into the ride I risked Dean’s wrath (or at least the slap of his hand) by turning down the volume. As I expected, it earned me an annoyed glance from the driver seat. “Don’t touch the stereo,” he said, reaching out to turn it back up.

“You’re really not gonna tell me _anything_ about what you and dad found out?” I tried before he could turn the dial.

Dean’s hand fell away with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. “We’ve been over this, Sarah.” His sights leveled out and fixed themselves on the road. “Dad doesn’t want you getting involved in this one.”

“So you’re keeping me in the dark because Dad said so?”

“No. I’m keeping you in the dark because I think you’ll get yourself killed.”

The hot ball of anger was back, growing bigger by the second. “’Cause I’m not ready,” I said, voice tight.

“You’re not,” Dean replied firmly. “Not for this.” He glanced away from the road to meet my furious stare. “Look, after this crap blows over, first weird thing I catch wind of, you’re in on it. Alright? I’ll take you myself.”

I fixed my sights ahead, watching the trees slide by as the car raced down the road. The beach was supposed to be fifteen minutes away. But if Dean had his mind made up, I knew there wasn’t enough time in the world to change it.

“Bobby gave me some kind of lecture the other day,” I settled on.

“Oh?” I could hear the relief in his voice at the change of subject. “What he say?”

“That I wasn’t a hunter.”

“Hey. You’re a hunter.” Dean insisted. “But there’s some stuff you’re not ready to tangle with just yet. Doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way forever.” He frowned lightly and shifted his shoulders. “Bobby’s just overprotective.”

“And you aren’t?” I shot back.

“Back to this again?” Dean blew out a frustrated puff of breath. “Let it go, princess.” He nodded his head towards the windshield. “We’re off to go to the beach with your friends. Alright? Lets just have some fun for a few hours.”

I turned to stare at the towering firs and consoled myself with the knowledge that Dad and Dean weren’t the only ones keeping secrets. I was starting to feel less guilty about keeping mine.

The clouds hadn’t moved by the time we reached First Beach. But the gray waves were capped by bright white foam, and the fir trees that packed the land glowed an otherworldly green in the ocean mists. Islands rose from the ocean, their sides tall and sheer, as if a great hill had been smashed to pieces and strewn out among the water. Small, smooth rocks in a brilliant array of colors lined the shore beyond a thin strip of gray sand, and the carcasses of trees long since felled and bleached by the salt and the weak light littered the long shoreline.

We picked our way down the rocky path to a chorus of pelicans singing from the shore. Mike knew where a circle of stones waited for a fire to be built, where logs arrayed around provided a popular place to hang out.

I went with the group collecting firewood while Dean ended up leading the efforts to get a fire going. Dean stacked the larger bits of wood together into a square that he filled with stray twigs. A generous application of lighter fluid and a flick of his Bic later, and a pretty blue fire was soon crackling merrily away at the structure.

I had gone to collect more wood to keep feeding the fire, and when I returned found Jessica sitting next to Dean, smiling and giggling. He was grinning and hamming it up right back.

I had to curl my hands around my bundle to keep from smacking the back of his head as I passed.

Dean glanced my way. The giant ass didn’t have the decency to even pretend to be ashamed. His grin just got wider before he went right back to talking with Jessica.

I blew out a frustrated breath and sat across from them. I did my best to ignore their flirting, which mostly involved talking with Angela and Mike. About a half hour later, a group from the reservation spotted the fire and made their way down the beach to join us.

Introductions were made. The food came out and was passed around. The mood was light and easy.

I was still trying to ignore Dean and Jessica when a familiar name pulled my attention back to the pair.

“It was pretty shocking,” Jessica was saying. “The Cullens _never_ socialize with anybody. Especially Edward.”

“Edward, huh?” Dean aimed a questioning eyebrow my way before turning back to Jessica with one of his well-practiced smiles. “Who’s he?”

Jessica stared at my brother for several moments before glancing my way. I tried to tell her with my eyes to keep quiet, but either she couldn’t read the urgent plea in my expression or she was more interested in impressing Dean. “Your sister’s friend.” There was no mistaking the loaded meaning she packed behind that.

Dammit, Jessica.

Dean was still smiling, but I saw it for the fake it was as he turned to me. “Surprised you didn’t invite him.”

“The Cullens don’t come here.” The abruptness of the unexpected declaration momentarily cut through most of the conversations going on. The guy who’d spoken, tall and deep-voiced who looked near Dean’s age, stared hard at Dean. Several of the guys near me shifted on the seats. Dean just arched a brow, but I could tell he was as confused as I was by the sudden shift in the mood. After a minute, the conversation started back up.

I wondered at the finality of the guy’s words, though. There was something lurking behind them, more than just a known neighbor not visiting the local hangout.

A little while later, Mike organized a hike to the nearby tidal pools. I joined up, to Mike’s apparent pleasure. Several of the guys from the reservation wanted to go too—the older one not among them.

We had to trek a little way through the woods. Beneath the firs, the grey light had transformed into a misty green, lending an ethereal glow to the forest. Moss grew everywhere—up the trees, over the rocks, across the ground. It took particular care not to step in a sinkhole or onto a rock that might trip my ankle.

After a while, we emerged back onto the beach. The low tide had pulled much of the ocean back from the shore, leaving little ponds between the bigger rocks strewn across the shore. Each one teemed with life. After a while of moving from one tidal pool to the next, the tide began to come back in, and so the group decided to turn back.

We were back in the woods when I noticed one of the guys from the reservation peering over at me. He looked about Sam’s age, though he wasn’t quite as thin. He had a nice smile that I greeted with my own. He slowed a bit while I sped up my pace.

“Hey,” I said as we met up in the middle. “I’m Sarah.”

“Jacob.” The hood of his jacket was pulled high, but I could see a lot of long black hair to either side of his face. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“I’m new.”

“Figured as much.”

I grabbed a branch and shifted it aside so he didn’t have to duck so low to get under it. He threw me a grateful smile. “Do a lot of hiking?”

“Not as much as I’d like.” I avoided a huge rock sticking out of the ground at an odd angle. “You?”

“Same,” he replied. “Guess I spend too much of my time working on cars.”

“What kind of cars?”

The next ten minutes was filled with Jacob’s enthusiasm about a car he was busy restoring for when he got his license next year. He and Dean would’ve gotten along great. His enthusiasm was infectious, though.

After a while, he turned a bit sheepish and said, “Sorry. You don’t want to get me started on cars.”

I laughed a bit. “Apparently not.” At his slight smile I added, “But I don’t mind.” But seeing he was done expounding on the subject, I thought of the strange reaction earlier. “If you don’t mind?” I waited until Jacob turned inquisitive eyes my way. “What was that earlier? About the Cullens?”

“Oh,” Jacob turned forward, searching the trail as if to avoid my gaze. “That.”

“It’s just—he sounded like one of them ran over his dog or something,” I went on.

Jacob’s eyes lingered on my face before minding the forest floor again. “I’m not really supposed to talk about it.”

Okay. Now I knew I was onto something. “Oh. Well.” I made a show of looking around. “I won’t say anything.” As he pressed his lips together, I leaned over and added, “I’m really good at keeping secrets. _Trust_ me.”

He glanced my way and smiled. “It’s just—” his eyes lit up. “Do you like scary stories?”

Jackpot. “I _love_ them.”

“Well,” Jacob grabbed the next branch and held it aside. “It’s the story of the cold ones,” Jacob said, voice quiet despite the fact we were far back from the rest of the group.

“The Cold Ones?” I shook my head. “Never heard of them.”

He smirked. “They’re supposed to be a natural enemy of our tribe. Legend says we’re descended from wolves.”

My pulse picked up. “Like… wolves transforming into men?”

“Something like that,” he shrugged.

Werewolves. “And these cold ones are the enemies of these ancient wolf men?”

“And our enemies still,” he confirmed. “Supposedly my great-grandfather met a group of them while they were hunting. But they claimed they weren’t like other cold ones and weren’t a danger to the tribe. So my great-grandfather made a treaty with them.” Jacob leaned towards me. “As long as they stayed off Quileute land, we wouldn’t expose what they were to the pale faces.” He nodded at me.

“So the Cullens can’t come onto the reservation because they’re like the cold ones your ancestor met?”

“No,” Jacob paused a moment before adding, “they’re the _same_ ones.”

“The same—” I stared off into the woods. “Didn’t they just move here?”

“Or just moved back,” he grinned, brows climbing.

I forced myself to grin along with him. “So the Cullens are these cold ones,” I said, carefully stepping over a log. “And they made the treaty to ensure your tribe didn’t out them.”

“That’s the story.”

“So the cold ones must have been known in European legend, right?” I turned towards Jacob. “For them to be exposed.”

“Your people call them vampires.”

My heart began to pound. A sweat broke out across my palms and forehead, immediately chilling in the cold air. “Vampires,” I said softly.

Jacob grinned. “Yep.” He looked down before adding, “So you probably think we’re a bunch of superstitious natives now, huh?”

I got out of my own head long enough to turn and see that behind the easy smile was a real concern. “No, Jacob,” I said, completely serious. “I don’t.” I turned to look up at the towering firs. “I think there’s a lot of things in this world that lurk in the darkness.”

Now it was Jacob watching me as I turned back. “So you’re saying you’re the superstitious one.”

It startled a slight laugh out of me. “Yeah. I am.” I pulled out my puppy eyes and fluttered my lashes at him. “Don’t tell?”

Jacob’s grin widened before he made a buttoning motion over his lips. “Secret’s safe with me.”

I kept pace with Jacob the rest of the way, somehow managing to keep up my half of the conversation despite the realization racing through my head. I even managed to keep the act up for the rest of the afternoon into the early evening.

The sun was setting by the time we packed up and headed home. For once, I didn’t mind the mindless music of eighties rock pounding through the Impala’s speakers.

That night I sat out on the porch, knees drawn up, staring into the trees.

Vampires.

Clearly, some of what popular culture had to say about them was crap. The Cullens walked in the day. Something had come into the house uninvited. I had to find a source more authoritative than Hollywood. But it would explain the bite marks on the man. If they had—drained his blood.

I wrapped myself tighter in my jacket, leaning my head against my knees.

Behind me the porch door slid aside. “Cold out,” I heard Dean observe as he stepped out onto the concrete.

“Yeah.”

There was a slight hesitance before he asked, “Still pissed at me?”

I rolled my head to the side to look up at Dean. He was peering down, a worried look in his eyes.

He knew. He and Dad and Bobby all already pieced it together. And they were worried Sam and I had been about to run into a pair of blood-thirsty monsters with super speed, strength, and senses unprepared. I hugged my jacket closer. “No, Dean.”

His expression lightened. “Look. I was just talking with Jessica.”

I turned to stare back out into the woods. “Sure.”

“Seriously.” He crouched down beside me and stared out into the darkness. “I put a few more weapons in your room. You should keep ‘em handy.”

Nodding my head, I wondered if I’d find stakes and holy water sitting on my bedside table.

Dean sat with me a few minutes longer before rising to his feet. “C’mon, kid.” He said, extending a hand. “Time to get inside.”

I let Dean pull me up and lead me back into the house.

I ended up on the couch that evening, both brothers lounging in the recliners as we watched movies late into the night. The commentary was familiar, and something tight in my chest loosened just a bit at the sound of their back and forth. By the time it drew past midnight, I was starting to doze off. I got myself up and, after a few goodnights, made my way back upstairs.

I walked into my room and paused.

A machete laid at the center of my bed. Stuck to the leather holster was a post-it note that read:

_don't clean it_


	8. Revelations

The most important weapon in a hunter’s arsenal is knowledge.

The fact I lacked it was a problem. I knew the library was a no go. The best I’d get in Forks would be small paragraphs in compilations on myths and legends. So I used the home office’s computer and scoured the internet. Like the library, most of what I found wasn’t very useful. The top searches brought up fictional characters in television shows, books, and movies.

Myths and folklore were mixed. I read internet articles on whatever legend I could find, from Vlad Tepes to Mercy Brown. Nothing quite matched what I’d witnessed in the Cullens. I began to wonder if Jacob’s tale of the cold ones had any connection to vampires. Maybe it was just the closest comparison.

What I needed were books.

I searched for the nearest bookstore. Forks didn’t have anything, but Port Angeles had a few. One of which had a webpage featuring tarot cards and a myriad of crystals. It could have been bogus, but every so often a real psychic or hunter would open shop somewhere. It was as good a place as any to start looking. At the very least, they’d have books off the beaten path. I wrote down the name—Mystic Books—and its address.

Grabbing my jacket and fake cards, I hurried down the steps. “I’m going to Port Angeles for the afternoon,” I announced to Sam and Dean before moving for the front door.

“Whoa, whoa,” Dean objected, looking up from the pieces of his thirty-eight laid apart on the table. “You know you can’t just—”

“I’m going with Angela and Jessica,” I lied, opening the door.

Dean scoffed. “In that truck?” He drew out a burner phone and started dialing.

“What are you—”

“Jess gave me her number,” Dean grinned at me.

Crap.

I folded my arms and tried to look put out.

“Hey, Jess,” Dean greeted. “Good to hear your voice too, sweetheart.” Ugh. “Sarah wanted me to let you know she’s on her way over for your trip.” I dug my fingers into my arms, still affecting a bored expression. Dean watched me like a boxer waiting for his first opening. After a moment, his sights shifted to the side and he frowned lightly. “Well, drive safe.” As relief threatened to ruin my carefully constructed façade, I made a show of examining my nails. “Bye.”

“Satisfied?” I asked.

Dean picked his bore brush back up and went back to cleaning the barrel. “Have fun.”

My phone rang as soon as I shut the truck’s door with a bang. “Hey, Jessica.”

“You owe me,” Jessica returned.

I actually thought we were even for her slipping Edward into the conversation yesterday but didn’t feel like quibbling over trivialities. “Totally.”

“So where are you really going?”

I started the engine and had to turn down the radio. “Port Angeles. I feel like shopping.”

“That doesn’t sound half bad,” Jessica mused. “The Spring Formal is coming up. I wouldn’t mind picking something out before all the good dresses are gone.”

I hadn’t had dress shopping in mind, but she had just saved my ass. “Sounds good.”

“We’re taking my car, though,” she went on. “No offense.”

“None taken.” I was grateful for the truck, but Jessica’s Kia wouldn’t grumble so much about the drive.

It took me less than ten minutes to reach Jessica’s house. From there, I parked on the street and went up to her door. She was out as soon as I knocked. “I invited Angela,” she said as we headed for her car. “Hope you don’t mind.”

I didn’t. Angela was even closer, less than five minutes from the house I was staying at. She greeted us with her slight, shy smile and sat in the back. A minute later, we were off.

Jessica drove much faster than Dean. With all the weapons and fake ids we had in the car, we had to stay at least three miles within the speed limit. Jessica felt no such compunctions as she sped down the highway at eighty. The gossip started right away. Most of it centered around Lauren and Tyler, but it wasn’t long before the talk turned to Mike.

It revolved around the various people we went to school with as we reached Port Angeles. The modest town was obviously built around the harbor. Several store names referred to either the port or the ocean. It was charming, though, especially along the boardwalk.

But we drove past the tourist trap, back inland towards a small department store. We kept up the steady stream of chatter as we found our way to the dresses and began combing through the racks.

It was around the fifth set of dresses Jessica and Angela tried on that Jessica asked, “Are you sure you won’t be around for the dance?”

“Positive,” I told her, holding a yellow off-shoulder she’d liked.

There was a dip in the mood, but it picked up again as the two girls discussed possible dates.

“What about Dean?” Jessica asked me, twisting to examine the way a dusky rose gown hugged her curves in a body-length mirror.

From a nearby rack, I shook my head, “You don’t want to go there, Jess. Trust me.”

She turned to regard me over her bare shoulder. “Are you saying that because he’s your brother?”

“I’m saying that because he’s not into relationships.”

Jessica turned back to the mirror, pensive.

I hoped I’d nipped that in the bud. Setting the dresses onto a nearby hanger, I wondered, “How many more are you going to try on?” We’d already been looking several hours.

Angela and Jessica glanced at each other. “A few more?”

“Mind if I take off? I want to visit a bookstore while I’m in town.” We’d talked about going out to eat later. “We can meet up at the restaurant.”

“Okay,” Angela agreed.

“Where are you going?” Jessica wondered.

“Mystic Books? It’s not far off from the boardwalk, right?”

Jessica nodded, already gazing back in the mirror. She gave some directions to the store, finishing with, “See you in an hour.”

I agreed and with a few waves was making my way back onto the streets of Port Angeles. I ended up skimming the boardwalk, which was packed with tourists, before turning onto a street that led away from the coast.

I knew I’d found the right place from the myriad of dream catchers and crystals hanging in the shop’s display window. Patchouli and sage greeted me inside. The shop was on the smaller side, packed with so many shelves and displays I was glad I wasn’t claustrophobic. All the occult items were displayed on small tables or the counter up front, while the books were kept further back. The woman at the register was disappointingly boring in appearance—a professional pant suit, well-kept brown curls, and a perfectly ordinary face. It was always fun when they hammed up the mystic angle with some scarves, peasant blouses, egyptian eyeshadow, and jangling bangle bracelets.

I skipped the healing crystals, candles, incense, and tarot cards for the back shelves. The first books I saw were mostly dealing with new age subjects. Spirituality, aroma therapy, astrology, and the like. I was starting to think I wasn’t going to get much out of my trip when I found the section for myths and legends.

Half of it looked dubious, but there were a few titles I recognized from Bobby’s. I started browsing for anything on either the Quileutes or vampires. Unsurprisingly for the area, I found a book on legends of the Pacific Northwest. A quick look at the index revealed a reference to the cold ones.

It wasn’t a very large entry, nothing like what Jacob had told me. The most it had was a small reference to ‘blood drinkers’ known as cold ones because of their icy skin. But it backed up Jacob’s claim they were vampires.

Even though I’d gotten everything I needed from it, I didn’t know if I’d need some other bit of information on the area, so I kept it in my arms as I went back to looking. It was taking more time then I’d planned. Almost an hour by the time I found a book based on medieval superstitions and folklore.

Here I found what I’d been looking for.

_The vampire was once an accepted scourge upon a village much as any drought or plague. The dead which walked the earth to steal life away from the living. A creature so feared they would stake a corpse to its coffin and place great rocks upon a grave to keep the dead where they lay. For if a vampire rose it would take the entire village to put the creature down._

The book went on to describe their skin as pale as a corpse but hard as diamonds. Their strength greater than twenty men, their speed faster than the eye could see. They could smell better than a dog and see better than a hawk. It also claimed they had fantastic psychic powers.

Everything was spot on aside from the, ‘ _eyes as red as the blood they consumed_.’ According to the text, the only way to kill the vampire was to dismember the body and burn the pieces. That explained the machete.

Loaded with two books, I went back to the front and bought them with one of my fake credit cards. Over the time it had taken me to find both books, the sun had set. It was dark when I stepped outside.

I attempted to retrace my steps, but the streets looked different at night. Buildings were large, dark shapes that loomed at the side of the road. Cars were bright white dots that came roaring by, leaving two trails of red behind. Streetlights gave pools of yellow light, but they seemed to create darker shadows lurking between buildings.

Not even the weight of my twenty-two was comforting. The trouble with knowing so much about the evil that lurked in the world was I couldn’t so easily dismiss the monsters lurking in the darkness as imaginary. Although I really wasn’t any safer during the day, there was something comforting about sunlight.

It was thirty minutes before I admitted I was lost. I was in some sort of warehouse district, judging from the huge buildings and long, empty patches of concrete surrounded by fences. Alone in a city I didn’t know, my mind buzzed with possibilities. Jessica and Angela could leave me stranded. I’d have to call my brother, and then Dean would wonder why I’d separated from the girls. It was clear I wasn’t finding my way to the restaurant, so I settled for finding a store that was open late.

I’d walked another fifteen minutes when I turned down a street with several men walking towards me from the other direction. They were obviously having a good time, talking and laughing loudly, and the closer we came to crossing paths the more I could see they weren’t too much older than me. Maybe their early twenties. They were dressed in jeans and sweaters or jackets, none nice enough to mark them as fellow tourists.

I could sense the change when they noticed me. They nudged each other while their sights focused on me in a way that made me wish I could disappear. Their smiles became a little less easy, their words a little more leering. I stiffened my shoulders as if preparing to charge through the group but made to cross the street.

My stomach dropped when they started crossing, too.

“Hey, there!” one of them called, a heavier man in blue sports sweater and ripped jeans.

I gave a short nod but kept facing ahead, careful not to make eye contact. My throat tightened at their continued path towards me. I debated crossing the other way, then realized it’d be pointless. They’d follow.

They started to spread out the nearer I came. Five of them, various sizes, but all larger than me. I clenched my fists. There was a fence to my right that stretched the expanse of the street. To the other side, a series of warehouses with large rolling doors, all padlocked.

Nowhere to go.

“Hey, honey!” another with blonde hair called, to several guffaws of his pals.

I would cross their path soon. Instead, I turned around.

The way back was darker than I remembered, but I quick walked for the street I’d just come from. There was a busier road nearby.

“Hey!” Came another call.

Their footsteps quickened. I picked up my own pace. After a moment, they matched me. Gripping the bag of books tightly, I launched into a flat-out sprint.

I heard the men behind me start to run.

At least two of them were gaining. “Don’t be like that!” cajoled a deeper voice from behind.

I ran as fast as I could but could hear those footsteps getting louder the closer they came.

They were too fast.

There were too many.

I slowed to a fast jog. They came closer, catcalls a constant ringing in my ears. I came to a stop and turned as the two who’d been about to overtake me slowed in response. My stomach twisted, my throat filled with acid, but I shifted my stance. “Leave me alone!”

A few laughed. Even the slower three were about caught up.

The weight of my twenty-two seemed even heavier in that moment. I could draw it, but it had been drilled into my head that you only pulled a gun if you intended to use it. Scared as I was, I wasn’t sure if I could shoot any of the men moving to surround me. And if one of them were armed, I was escalating the situation to a level where someone was going to die, and there was a good chance it could be me. “Don’t come any closer,” I warned, somehow managing to speak levelly.

They ignored me. One wearing a red shirt beneath a brown jacket was close enough to touch, “She’s not very friendly,” he said to his friends. He was sharper than the others, his features and build leaner and made up of angles. He reached out towards my head.

I didn’t even think as I slapped his hand away and moved back a step. “Don’t touch me,” I demanded.

They exchanged looks and laughed. Now nearly all of them were close enough to touch. I was boxed in as the shortest moved around me.

The stockier one leaned forward and grabbed for my arm.

I was done.

I wasn’t playing. I wasn’t training. Aiming for the adam’s apple in the middle of his throat, I threw my punch. He wasn’t expecting it. He staggered, wheezing, and doubled over.

Blue sweater lunged and I bobbed out of his path, thrusting out my foot to trip him. As he went down, I darted for the opening he’d left. I was cut off by the largest man. He grabbed my arm. I tried jerking free, bringing up my forearm to break his hold. He was strong, though. He held firm, hard enough to bruise. He reached for my other arm, spitting out a slur. I grabbed his hand before he could latch on and wrenched his hand back hard enough to hear a pop. That got him to let go with a sudden cry.

I backed up, but before I could move away, another of the group wrapped his arms around my upper body from behind, trapping my arms to my sides. He lifted me up. I kicked back and heard a crack and a shout as I struck his kneecap with my heel. We went down together.

The ground was the last place I wanted to be. He was cursing me out but holding strong. I brought my head back with as much force as I could muster. The shock of the impact went through my whole skull, from the back of my head to the tip of my nose. The pain came soon after, enough to make my eyes water. I ignored it because his arms loosened enough for me to roll away.

I was scrambling to stand when the squeal of tires sliding over concrete sounded and a car rounded the corner of the building at the end of the street. Caught like a deer in the spotlight of bright headlights, I stilled, terrified it was reinforcements. The car revved as it drove right up to us, then screeched to a sudden stop.

The door opened. A familiar silken voice told me, “Get in the car.” Edward got out and walked purposefully towards us.

I didn’t hesitate. I jumped to my feet and practically dove in. Edward didn’t follow. He stood, still, and as the men hobbled towards him, he took several steps forward.

The lights illuminated Edward’s back, and beyond, the men’s faces as they morphed from furious to pants-wetting terror. The one whose knee I must have busted cried out as the others turned and started to run. Edward was quiet, apparently watching broken knee try to crawl away.

Shivering with dread, I forced myself to stand outside of the car. “EDWARD!”

His back stiffened even further, and a moment passed before he spun about and marched for the car. I ducked back inside a moment before he slid in, eyes large as he stared out the windshield. The car roared forward suddenly, and when the man cried out I had a moment’s terror that he’d been hit, but Edward stopped suddenly and threw the car in reverse. I could see the man was fine as we sped back, until the wheel was sharply turned, and we spun around.

Cars honked as Edward rejoined the busier street around the corner, nearly ramming into a passing SUV.

The volvo raced down the street, zipping around cars as streetlights blurred by in flashes of light. I held onto the dashboard, eyes wide as my heart pounded and ears still buzzed from the adrenalin. Edward stared ahead, hands clenching the steering wheel. Despite the fact I’d been the one in a brawl, his eyes were squinting as if he were in pain. “Put your seatbelt on,” he suddenly demanded.

I took a steadying breath, reaching for the belt on autopilot. It occurred to me that his expression wasn’t one of pain. No. It was the same look I’d encountered that day in Biology. “Are you alright?”

Edward’s head stretched to the side, his lips pulled back into something resembling a smile, except for the fury tightening his features. “I should go back there,” he said, glaring at the road. “Rip their heads off.”

“No,” I said, ice filling my blood. A chill swept over me as I inadvertently pictured Edward’s angelic face covered in blood. “No, you definitely should not.”

His eyes narrowed even further. “You have no idea of the vile, repulsive things they were thinking.”

“It wasn’t hard to guess,” I said, stomach flipping. I swallowed against another wave of nausea. I closed my eyes and forced a calming breath. It was—easier than I would have thought.

He was still glaring darkly at the street beyond the windshield. “Distract me.”

“What?”

“So I don’t turn around,” he said, hand tightening on the wheel till it creaked.

My still racing thoughts were almost too jumbled to hold on to. I remembered the first time I felt a rush of terror that made it hard to think. “The first ghost I ever saw was a seven-year-old kid,” I blurted. “He haunted a hospital in Ohio. I was ten.”

It had been an accidental case. Dad had tangled with something—he never did tell us what—but whatever it was had torn him up bad. Bad enough that we couldn’t patch him up. Dean and I took him to the nearest emergency room. While he recuperated, we heard about a woman who’d died. While that might not be awfully unusual for someone in a hospital, it turned out she hadn’t been the patient. Her daughter had been.

We’d done some digging and found she hadn’t been the only mother of a patient who’d died. There were at least two dozen of them dating back to the fifties.

So we borrowed Dad’s E.M.F. reader and went ghost hunting. It wasn’t until we’d snuck into the records room that we saw him. He’d been small, smaller than Sam. He’d been blonde with cheeks sunken from illness and big, brown eyes. At first he’d looked about as sad as it was possible to be. Then, when Dean tried talking to him, he’d turned. Got vicious. Dean ended up knocked into a wall. Then he’d flickered to life in front of me, screaming, and the next thing I knew Dean was waking me up from the floor.

But from that encounter we knew what he’d looked like. It helped us track his file down. And from that, the news stories.

“Turns out his mom had poisoned him. Not all at once. Slowly, over years. He spent more time in that hospital than he did at home.”

Edward did seem to be driving a little saner. “Munchausen syndrome by proxy,” he said quietly.

“Yeah.” I swallowed.

Getting to the graveyard late enough that we wouldn’t be caught had been a challenge. We ended up taking the last bus of the evening and waited several hours before sneaking into the cemetery. We’d had to take Sammy with us. It took hours of digging to get down to the coffin.

It had been our first Salt and Burn.

Dad had punished us, but I would’ve sworn I’d heard a hint of pride in his voice as he’d done it.

“How many ghosts have you seen?”

The question jogged more of my memory. Forced my thoughts into order as I sorted through them. I shrugged. “A couple.” I’d helped put five down. I’d only seen three of them. One had shown up at the gravesite and tossed us around like fallen leaves in a tornado. That was the time I broke my arm.

Edward hadn’t turned to look at me. Not once. “Why didn’t you use your gun?”

I stared at his profile. The perfect angle of his nose, the plush curve of his lips, the way his bangs fell over his broad forehead. “How’d you know I have a gun.”

He grinned, but it looked stiff. “You have a lump under your jacket.”

I touched the place where my twenty-two rested in its holster at my hip. “Because someone would be dead,” I said quietly.

He took a deep breath, eyes squinting again in pain, before he seemed to relax.

It occurred to me that I should be more worried about being in the car with a vampire, but all I felt was relief and gratitude. It seemed this vampire was always showing up in time to save me. I stared out the window, noticing we were headed back towards the harbor. “I’m supposed to meet Jessica and Angela.”

Edward smoothly switched lanes and turned onto a quieter street a minute later. Streetlights continued to streak past us until we were at the better-lit part of Port Angeles. The Volvo glided into a spot in front of La Bella Italia that would have taken me several minutes to parallel park in. If I could have even managed it in the Ford. “How did you know?”

He said nothing, just nodded out the window. I turned just in time to see Angela and Jessica walking down the wooden steps, away from the restaurant.

I pushed open the door and got out. “Jess! Angela!”

“Oh my god, where were you?” Jessica demanded as they drew closer.

“We were worried,” Angela added softly, her eyes shining with relief.

Jessica frowned. “You were taking so long—”

Edward’s door shut behind me. It attracted Jessica and Angela’s attention and their questions slowed to nothing as surprise overtook them.

“I apologize,” Edward said as he joined me on the sidewalk. He smiled.

Jessica looked stunned.

“No, it’s—ah—my fault.” I held my bag up. “I shopped too long and got lost.” I looked to the handsome monster beside me, soft cashmere sweater pulled over a sculpted chest, tapering to perfectly pressed khakis. I wondered what the men had seen that had so frightened them. Swallowing, I turned back to find Jessica and Angela waiting. “Sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Jessica said.

Angela nodded, “We just finished eating.” She looked apologetic.

“Oh,” I said. Then again, my stomach was still a bit touchy. “I’m not that hungry, anyway.”

“You should eat,” was Edward’s authoritative reply. He looked to Jessica. “If you don’t mind, I can take Sarah home. That way you won’t have to wait for her to finish eating.”

Jessica looked to me, trying to divine what I wanted from my expression.

I wasn’t hungry, but now that I knew what Edward was, I wasn’t that keen on letting him out of my sight long enough to go back after those men. I tried to let her know I was okay with a slight smile.

“Okay,” Angela interjected, taking hold of Jessica’s arm. “See you later, Sarah.” She hesitated before adding, “Edward.”

She pulled Jessica towards the car parked a little further way down the street. I watched until they were safely in, after a quick wave and curious look from Jessica. As they drove away, I turned back to Edward. “I’m really not hungry.”

Edward aimed a look my way. It was demanding, and at a glance I could tell he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Humor me.”

I realized I wasn’t going to win this one. “I’ll try,” I warned more than assented, following him up and through the door as he held it open.

I glanced at him as I passed and slipped off my jacket, folding it over my arm as I looked around. La Bella Italia was a small building, but in a way that felt quaint and cozy instead of cramped. There were little touches of Italian decor all around, such as the black iron light fixtures and paintings of Italian landscapes.

The Hostess glanced at me before her sights were glued to Edward. “Hello,” she greeted him.

“A table for two.” I couldn’t tell if he was trying to make his voice so captivating on purpose. The hostess smiled and, after another dismissive glance my way, led us into the dining room.

The restaurant was far from full, but despite that, she led us towards a central dining table large enough to fit a family.

Edward didn’t find it agreeable. “Something more private,” he suggested, slipping her a tip.

She agreed readily after a surprised blink and led us towards a line of booths along the far wall, to the one in the furthest corner. “Better?”

“Very much,” Edward approved with another bright, sparkling smile.

The hostess looked a little overwhelmed as she managed to say, “Your server will be out,” before walking away.

I slid into a booth, setting my bag of books near the wall under my jacket. I watched as he seated himself across from me, his eyes intent as he watched me across the table.

I studied his face in return, searching his features for some sign of his true nature. But aside from the white pallor of his skin and the dark bruises under his eyes, he looked perfectly ordinary. Well, no. Edward could never be _ordinary_. But he didn’t look like a blood thirsty monster.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked.

Edward seemed unsure what to say. Eventually, he wondered, “You were the one attacked, but you’re worried about me?”

“You were angry,” I pointed out, remembering the look on his face.

He looked aside, towards the rest of the restaurant’s patrons, before turning back. “I’m better, now that you’re safe.”

It was a good thing our waitress appeared then, because I had no idea how to respond.

The waitress let her eyes linger longer than polite. Not that I could blame her. But Edward’s gaze remained on me. “My name is Amber and I’ll be your server,” she said—only to him. “What can I get you to drink?”

He was still looking at me. An eyebrow rose.

“Coke,” I answered.

“Two cokes,” he said, finally shifting his gaze away from me long enough to meet our server’s eyes.

She smiled warmly and tucked a lose strand of black hair behind her ear. “I’ll be back with your drinks,” she said, setting down two menus. She smiled at Edward again, but he was already back to his steady regard of me. But the waitress didn’t seem that disappointed as she left.

“Are you alright?” Edward asked as I settled back in the booth.

I nodded.

“Not feeling cold or dizzy?”

“No.”

He frowned, a furrow appearing between his brows as if he were puzzled. His stare lingered on me until the waitress returned with our drinks and a basket of breadsticks. “Are you ready to order?”

Edward again waited for my response, while she waited for Edward.

Shaking my head, I picked up the menu.

“A few more minutes to look, please,” Edward asked.

“Alright,” she said and once again left for what I supposed was the door to the kitchen.

I unwrapped my straw and stuck it in my glass. He continued to stare as I took my first sip. “What?” I asked.

“I’m waiting for you to go into shock.” He sounded confused.

I flipped the menu open and skimmed it. “Why?” Nothing immediately caught my eye. “Except for some bruised knuckles and another bump on the head, I’m fine.” I flipped the page.

Frustration tightened his voice, but it was still unbelievably alluring as he said, “You never respond like I expect.”

Angling the menu lower, I met his exasperated expression. “I’m good at repressing.” Instead of smiling, his mouth curved further downwards. I blew out a breath and laid the menu down. “You want me to say I was afraid? I was.” His brows contracted. “But I’d rather not sit here and dwell on what could have happened.” I picked the menu back up. “I’m _fine_ ,” I restated, firmly, before returning to my search.

I found the meatballs, and despite not being hungry, decided to give them a try. I set the menu back down in time to catch Edward shaking his head. “Your Uncle was right. You do run towards trouble.” His tone was censuring.

If he’d been hoping to raise my hackles, that did it. “I didn’t ask to be harassed,” I snapped.

Edward’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say you had.”

“You just—”

“It would be more precise to say that when trouble finds you, instead of running from it, you confront it.”

My irritation quieted. I lifted my straw halfway from my coke, finger over the opening, then lifted it enough to watch the soda fall back into the glass. “I don’t run.”

“You should.” He was frustrated again.

I ducked the straw back down, taking up more coke the next time I lifted it. “Maybe,” I agreed. “But I’m not built that way.”

Hands curling into fists, Edward turned his head to the side and glared out a nearby window. “This is more complicated then I’d thought,” he murmured.

“What is?”

He shook his head.

Our waitress reappeared, and this time, her blatant staring irritated me. “Are you ready to order?”

I hardly thought we’d been given enough time, but gave a tight nod. “The meatball platter, please.”

She wrote my order down on the pad before raising expectant brows at Edward. He declined with, “Nothing, thank you.”

I fought to keep my face impassive as she asked if he was sure and he nodded. Dinner with a vampire. I swirled my straw in my drink and wondered why I didn’t feel terrified at the prospect. In fact, I was glad to be sitting across from him, even as he brooded.

Angling to change the subject as she left, I wondered, “Why’d you come to Port Angeles?”

His sights shifted to me, meeting my eyes with his before falling away. A crease between his brows indicated this innocent question was more complicated than I’d intended for him. “What are you doing here?”

I felt the childish urge to point out I’d asked first. With what I felt was exceptional maturity on my part, I refrained and patted my bag instead. The plastic crinkled. “Books.”

One of his brows climbed his forehead. “You came all the way here for books?”

“Yes.” I took a sip of the coke before adding, “There isn’t a bookstore in Forks.”

He glanced at the bag. “What books.”

It was my turn to deflect. “No, now it’s your turn to answer my question.”

He grimaced. “It’s… complicated.” At my silence, he admitted, “I heard you’d be here.”

My stare continued as I processed the fact he’d followed me. I fought an absurd urge to smile at a rush of pleasure. I had to be twisted, because the fact a vampire had just admitted to following me all the way to another town should have been terrifying. Why did it make me happy?

“How did you even hear that?” I’d only decided to go this afternoon, and it was happenstance that Jessica and Angela came along.

He didn’t seem to want to meet my eyes again. He looked down to his folded hands before glancing back up. “I saw you leave the house.”

Now a bit of trepidation deflated the bubble of giddiness. “You were watching the house?” I questioned softly.

“I wanted to be sure you were—safe,” he finally said by way of admission.

My first thought was for Edward’s safety. If Dean found him lurking around—I wondered if he’d put two and two together just seeing Edward’s unnaturally white skin. Hell, finding a boy lingering around would be enough reason for Dean to get suspicious and start looking for reasons he should stay away.

I should probably have been more worried that he was hanging around the house, watching me. I tried to muster up some concern for myself. Instead, all I could do was take in the apprehension shining in Edward’s eyes as they met mine. He was worried I’d be upset. He should’ve been. I should’ve been.

I was still pondering the mystery of this as the waitress returned, gaze once more stuck on Edward even as she set a plate of meatballs as big as fists down in front of me.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” she simpered.

“No, thank you,” Edward replied. He was still watching me. Trying to judge my reaction, maybe.

The waitress took the hint and finally left with a, “Let me know if you change your mind.”

I reached for the napkin wrapped silverware. Maybe he was right, I mused as I unrolled the cloth and took out the fork, maybe I did run towards trouble. Here was a monster that whole villages had feared. I used the side to cut into the nearest meatball before piercing it onto the tines and dipping it in the tomato sauce.

It was warm and tasted delicious. I chewed slowly, thoughtfully, as he watched.

“So you followed me around Port Angeles?” I finally settled on asking.

Edward was still observing me with utmost attention. “Not closely.” He frowned. “In fact, I lost you after you left the department store.”

I paused in the act of cutting off another sliver of meat, brows furrowed. I measured his expression. “I wasn’t exactly going down any alleyways.”

“Like I said, I wasn’t following you closely. Just—close enough in case you were in danger.” He didn’t shift or fidget, but something in the stillness with which he sat somehow sent the same signals of unease. “But I underestimated how difficult it would be to find you when you’re alone.”

“Why would that make it more difficult?”

He looked aside, as if debating with himself. His eyes glanced back to mine. “You’re—hard to read.”

He said it as if he meant something more than my expressions. I set my fork down. “You don’t mean how I look, do you?”

Edward had that same, strange stillness. Knowing what I knew now, I wondered if he was still breathing. “No.”

I stared. “This has to do with you lifting that van, doesn’t it?” His gaze shifted away from mine before returning, but there was something within. I thought of the passage in my new book that talked about vampires. It had said they had powers besides the superstrength, speed, and senses. “What do you mean I’m hard to read, Edward?”

He pressed his lips together, a debate raging within his amber eyes. Finally, after a moment, he leaned forward and said, very softly, “I hear thoughts.”

I had leaned forward to listen, but now sat back in my seat, eyes wide. I didn’t question the truth of this, fantastic though it seemed. I could see it in his worried expression, as if he was saying too much. “Like, Professor X?”

That got a brief smile out of him. “Something like that.”

I froze as real fear shot through me, paralyzing my limbs. I thought of the books in my bag—and then desperately tried to think of something else. But my thoughts kept sliding back to them, to what he was. “Then—you already knew why I’m here.”

His brows contracted again. “No,” he admitted, frustration deepening his words. He leaned forward again, his gaze intense. “I can read every mind in this room,” he paused a moment before saying, “apart from yours.”

I had no idea what to say to that.

Edward’s gaze flickered around, to the other people sitting in the room. “Money. Sex. Money.” His lips quirked briefly as his eyes landed on a man at least as big as Bobby, but with a big, bushy beard, “Cat.”

I blinked, stunned as his golden gaze finally met mine. His lips pressed together, his eyes narrowed slightly, before he blinked and shook his head. “Nothing.”

I could only think of one thing to ask. “Why?”

He contemplated his answer. “I don’t know,” he mused. “It’s as if… I’m pushed out. Or maybe I don’t quite fit.” His brows were practically touching as he said it. They dipped even further as he added, “It’s even worse with your brother.” He frowned. “Trying to read his mind feels like… sticking my head into a fire.”

“Sam?”

He nodded.

I leaned back, questions tumbling through my mind. But mostly I wanted to know why he’d tell me. “Why admit it?”

His amber gaze turned hooded. “I can’t read your mind, but I could read your _Uncle’s_ ,” the way he said that made it clear he knew Bobby wasn’t what he’d claimed.

Oh. Shit.

It was ironic he couldn’t read my mind, because he seemed to hear that thought perfectly as he nodded. “Your father is a hunter.”

I stilled. A lifetime of lessons about hiding who we were tackling me in that moment. I had to force myself to take a breath to say, “All the more reason not to tell me things like you can read minds.”

“You didn’t say anything about the van,” he reminded me.

“Not to anyone at school, no.”

Edward’s mouth quirked up at a corner. “If you’d told your father, I have a feeling he’d be here now.”

I couldn’t stop the skeptical huff from escaping. “Don’t count on it.” At the furrowing of his brows, I forced my expression into something more neutral. “Dad’s on a hunt. He won’t be back till the job’s done.”

I only realized after I said it that I probably shouldn’t tell the vampire stalking me that.

I forced myself to finish the one meatball. Revelations ran roughshod through my mind. A vampire that could read minds. One that knew what my dad did. I glanced up, wondering again if he was being honest about why he’d followed me. If he regretted saving me, before or tonight.

Setting my fork back down, I pressed my lips together. “If you knew that about my dad,” I looked back up, meeting those honey-colored eyes, “why save me tonight?”

His jaw flared. “Haven’t you been listening? I’m trying to protect you.”

If he was watching me close enough to keep tabs on me today, how long had it been going on? I slid the rest of my coke away as I asked, “Is that what you were doing that first night in my room? Protecting me?”

Edward’s eyes shuttered. “You should finish your meal.”

The smell of the marinera sauce made me feel ill again. “I’m done.”

Edward pulled out his wallet, pulling out a bill and laying it on the table. “I’ll take you home.”

“We need to wait for the check,” I refused, feeling unaccountably guilty for having ruined the evening. Even though I had every right to know. My hands balled into fists, but the slight ache from my right knuckles helped me relax.

Edward was standing, staring across the room, away from me. “I’ve covered it.”

I glanced at the table. A hundred-dollar bill sat where Edward had.

I picked up my jacket and my bag, wordlessly sliding out of the booth. We walked across the restaurant, and would have left, but he waited long enough for me to put my jacket on inside the receiving area. Holding open the door, he waited as I stepped back into the night.

The air still held a chill as we walked down the steps. It had settled into the car as we’d been inside, as I discovered after Edward pulled open my door and waited for me to sit before shutting it. I remained in the darkness, books gripped tightly in my hands, as his door opened. He settled inside and stared out the windshield for several moments. The silence grew into something tangible and heavy until his keys finally jangled as he fit them into the ignition.

The Volvo was quiet after turning over and glided into the street. That quiet didn’t last.

“The night you shot me, I came to kill you.”


	9. Natures

The car raced down the road much too fast to hurl myself out of it without ending up seriously injured. The lights winked by, reflecting off the dash in strips of yellow that flickered. I gripped the door and squeezed the handle, debating.

Edward’s brow was knotted deep in thought. “I wanted to stay away. I wasn’t—strong enough.” His jaw flared as he clenched his teeth. “I’m still not strong enough.”

He was merging onto the interstate. The car headlights flashed by like strobe lights as he weaved in and out of the lanes. A glance at the speedometer showed he was at eighty-five and climbing.

There was nowhere to go.

My head felt light and dizzy. There was nothing but the road outside the windshield and the glowing red brake lights of the cars ahead of us. Not even the display console was lit. The brief flashes of headlights only emphasized the darkness that surrounded me. I suddenly felt how narrow the space was between our seats.

I swallowed and moved my hand towards the gun at my side.

“I was weak. And you smelled—” he paused. “Even without breathing, I remembered your scent. It’s burned in my mind. I hadn’t had time to become… acclimated to it. And you were just a girl. The only thing holding me back was—I didn’t want to be the reason we’d have to leave and start over somewhere else. But your blood—” His eyes narrowed. “I can’t put into words how tempting you are.”

The holster was clipped shut. A little band of leather was all that kept the gun in place. Could I pop it open without drawing his attention?

“I was fighting with myself, trying to hold back. Leaving was already impossible. But then you woke, and the air stirred with your scent as you moved. I was about to lunge when I realized you were armed.” Edward smirked, as if the memory pleased him. “I knew that wouldn’t stop me. You had no idea I was there. But you found me. You looked so certain as you fired.” His smirk grew to a smile as his eyes narrowed with happiness. “I’d never been shot before,” he mused. “The sound of the gun going off hurt more than the bullet. But it—shocked some sense into me.”

The tip of my thumb was under the leather, my nail pressed against the metal of the clip. I wet my lips, waiting for some sound that might hide the click.

“So I left.” Edward stared at the road for a long moment. “But I couldn’t stay away. Even in Alaska, you haunted me. The girl who slept with a gun.”

My hand stilled. Did he know that I was moving for it? I had to remember to breathe steadily.

“And then I return and discovered you hadn’t told anyone of what had happened. You seemed perfectly normal.” Edward’s tone was filled with an echo of that initial amazement. “I didn’t understand. I couldn’t hear your thoughts, and I couldn’t even rely on normal human behavior to tell me what to expect. You constantly surprise me,” he said, bemused.

“Is that why I’m alive?” I asked, voice soft. “Because I surprise you?”

Edward’s brows drew lower. “It became _a_ reason not to give in. You weren’t just a girl. You were Sarah Winchester. A mystery. And the more I learned about you, the more reasons I had to resist.”

“Even after learning who my father was?”

“Especially then,” he confirmed. “I was already invested in your survival.” Edward gave me a censuring look. “I had no idea it would be so difficult to keep a single human alive and well.”

My hand slipped away from my gun’s holster. “You’re not worried that I’m a hunter? At all?”

Edward’s head tilted as he gave a lopsided, heart stopping smile. “No.”

Spine stiffening, I grit my teeth. I felt the shift of my clothes against my skin as my muscles tensed. For the first time, I noticed the mile markers passing my window. “You should be,” I said, my voice darkening as I thought of the machete in my room.

“We’ve run across hunters before,” he revealed.

A chill ran up the back of my neck, all the way to my prickling scalp. “Did you kill them?”

“My family doesn’t kill,” he claimed. “We leave.”

I turned to the passenger window, staring out at the signs passing by. “Why haven’t you left, then?”

Edward was quiet for a moment. “I said I was staying,” he said, soft and carefully worded, as if it was an admission. “They’ve decided to stay with me as long as they can.”

“You’re staying for me?” I had to be sure I understood this right.

Edward’s eyes sought out mine and held them. “I feel very protective of you.”

My nerves tingled as a warmth spread throughout my limbs that had nothing to do with the heater. “Because of my blood.”

Edward’s lips pressed together, brows knitting as he leaned his head away and put his narrowed eyes back on the road. “No.” A moment later, he amended, “Not entirely.”

This back and forth about my blood confused me. “I don’t understand, Edward. Do you want to kill me or not?”

“No!” He insisted, face contorting into pain. Gritting his teeth, he added in a strained voice, “But I am what I am.” His hands tightened on the wheel. “I can’t trust myself.”

I curled my hands into fists. “And what are you, Edward?” I asked softly.

He stared at the road. “You know what I am.”

“I thought you couldn’t read my mind.”

His smile was self-deprecating. “I don’t need to. You’ve seen enough.”

The crinkle of the plastic bag around my books as I gripped them tight was the only thing interrupting the silence. “Vampire.”

“Are you afraid?” he asked.

He had to hear the pounding of my heart. “Yes.”

“Good.”

The silence was deafening. It was so absolute I could hear the pounding of my pulse in my ears. “You say your family doesn’t kill. How do you survive?”

“We feed on animals.” Edward’s mouth curled at the corner. “We call ourselves vegetarians. Our private joke.”

“And that makes you safe?” I wondered.

Edward’s brows lowered. “We’re never entirely safe. The craving is always there.”

Did I dare believe him? I stared out the window, trying to process all he’d told me. He thirsted for my blood but wanted to protect me. He drank animals instead of people. But that didn’t make them any less dangerous.

But was Edward, or one of his family, responsible for the murdered man? Did he sate his bloodlust somewhere else? Or had one of the other Cullens fallen off the wagon.

“Why hunt animals at all?” I wondered aloud.

“I don’t _want_ to be a monster.”

There was a world of longing behind his words. I couldn’t help but want the same for him, too.

But he was a monster. One who even admitted to wanting my blood.

Yet, Edward wasn’t just some creature—some evil thing. He had saved me, twice. He was intelligent and clearly loved his family. He wanted to be better than the beast his dark impulses tried to make him into.

I closed my eyes and leaned back into my seat, torn. But for the moment, it didn’t matter. I hadn’t taken my machete with me. Shooting him would do nothing but startle him, possibly causing a car accident. Innocent people could be killed. Provided he was telling the truth, I wasn’t in any immediate danger.

By the time I opened my eyes and looked out, we were passing buildings again. Forks. We’d arrived in less than twenty minutes. I couldn’t believe how little time had gone by. It seemed so much longer.

We were coming up to the sheriff’s station when I noticed the myriad of flashing red and blue lights. Several cruisers and an ambulance were parked in the building’s narrow lot. Something was clearly going on.

Edward leaned forward, eyes narrow. “That’s my father’s car at the end,” he said, indicating a black BMW. Edward turned on his blinker and left the main road for the lot.

The interior of the car flickered with alternating red and blue lights as we drew closer to the emergency vehicles arrayed around the building. As Edward pulled into a parking space near the glass door, a familiar pale figure stepped out into the evening. Doctor Cullen carried a black leather bag. Upon noticing the Volvo, he unerringly found Edward.

Edward pushed open the door and stepped out of the car. Curious, I followed.

“Carlisle,” Edward asked as he approached his foster father, “what’s going on?”

Carlisle sighed. “Waylon Forge was found in a boat out near his place.” He met Edward’s stare. “I’ve just examined the body.”

I frowned and tugged my jacket closer. “Why would they ask you out here in the middle of the night to examine a body?”

Carlisle’s amber gaze fell to me. “Waylon was killed.” His sights slid back to Edward. “Animal attack.”

I snapped to. Beside me, Edward’s eyebrows cinched together as their eyes met and held. “Animal attack,” I repeated, skepticism lowering my voice.

“Afraid so,” Carlisle replied seamlessly. He met my eyes without hesitance, just the right amount of concern in the tilt of his brows and slightest dip of his lips.

Carlisle Cullen was an excellent liar.

Before I could question him further, a familiar rumble drew closer. “Crap,” I muttered, back and shoulders stiff as I slowly turned to look around Edward.

The Impala was coasting near the corner of the street. It was too dark to see inside, but I didn’t have to see Dean’s face to know he was driving. There was no way he’d let Sam behind the wheel.

“What?” Edward asked, starting to twist at the waist.

I grabbed his arm to stop him. “My brother’s here.” Edward turned towards me instead, brows still knit together in concern. I forced a smile. “I’ll take care of it.”

Edward’s eyes were reluctant to leave mine. Eventually, he nodded.

Letting go of his arm, I nodded to Carlisle and turned about. Across the lot, the Impala made an imposing sight as it sat, still and rumbling, in the darkness. But for the soft red glow of the brake lights, it nearly blended into the night. I stopped at Edward’s car just long enough to retrieve my bag before setting off. Sneakers tapping against the concrete, I crossed the lot at a fast clip, as quick as I could without outright jogging.

I bent over when I was close enough to peek in through the passenger window. Sure enough, Dean was inside, arm over the steering wheel, glaring at me. He lifted his other hand and crooked a finger.

I stood and grimaced before pulling the door open with a loud creak. A fortifying breath steadied me before I slipped inside.

The heater was blasting through the vents, chasing away the outside chill. I angled towards Dean as soon as I was settled against the leather and opened my mouth.

“Don’t bother,” he said, fixing me with a look that would brook no bullshit. One he’d picked up from Dad. His lips twisted into a smile that failed to reach his hard eyes. “I knew you were feeding me a bunch of crap.”

“I did go to Port Angeles with Jessica and Angela,” I insisted.

“Well,” Dean said, sights slipping past me to stare out the passenger window. “They’ve gotten a lot broader in the shoulder, and a lot more male, since yesterday.”

Desperate to get his attention off Edward, I summoned a pout. “I didn’t say I’d _stay_ with them.”

Dean glared.

“I ran into him shopping, alright? We got talking. I was late to dinner so Jess and Angela took off. He offered to take me home.” My nerves pulled tighter as Dean kept quiet. “Then he noticed his dad’s car at the sheriff station.” I spread my hands. “And here we are.”

“Here we are,” Dean mocked. He huffed another breath before ducking his head to take in at the building and all the vehicles. “You hear anything useful while you were cozying up with your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I muttered. Before Dean could say anything more, I nodded towards the ambulance. “His dad’s the local doctor. They called him in to examine a body.”

“Yeah. Found some poor bastard down near the docks,” Dean replied, some of the anger giving way to business.

Quiet descended as the door opened and a body bag was rolled out on a stretcher. The E.M.T.’s carried it down to the pavement and then directed it to the waiting ambulance. I debated on repeating Carlisle’s lie. Dean would know it was nonsense right away. It would only raise his suspicions.

I should tell him, though. About Edward and all the Cullens.

But would Dean care that they didn’t feed on humans?

Why did I?

“His name was Waylon. Doctor Cullen said he was killed.”

Dean waited until the body was loaded before shifting gears. “Where’s the truck?”

“At Jessica’s. I rode with her.”

Dean let loose a hum before pulling away from the curb. His eyes followed the ambulance as we passed before redirecting to the road. I suddenly realized Dad hadn’t sent Dean back just to babysit me and Sam.

Dean was still hunting.


	10. Nerves

Dean didn’t follow me back to the house after dropping me off at the truck. Instead, he headed off in the opposite direction. It happened to be the same direction the hospital, and morgue, were.

Back at the house, I pulled out the book on medieval folklore and got reading. Like a lot of texts on medieval and ancient beliefs, it was written from a scholarly angle. It dealt with a few accounts written down at the time. Inquisitors who had hunted down and destroyed a vampire or vampires terrorizing a whole countryside.

It was treated as nonsense, of course. Just a bit of superstition.

_The bloodlust of the newly risen was beyond quenching. It was reported that whole villages would be wiped out in short spans of time, including the new vampire’s own family. It is likely these villagers were victims of plague or starvation. Attributing the massive death on a foe that could be fought must have brought some measure of comfort to the writers of the time._

Yeah. Blame it on the plague.

It was late when the Impala rumbled back into the driveway. I made sure the light was off and I was under the covers by the time Dean climbed the stairs. The floorboards outside my door creaked, followed by a moment’s silence before his footsteps moved away.

I laid in the dark for a while, unable to sleep. My mind whirled with all that I had learned.

I ended up getting only a few hours of rest before I had to be up and showered. Dean was still asleep on the couch when Sam and I left for school. As soon as we stepped outside, we were greeted by a thick gray mist that hid anything further than ten feet from us, including the truck in the driveway. The fog was so thick, it was as if the clouds had fallen to blanket the earth. I drove extra carefully that morning.

It was so hard to see that once we reached the school’s parking lot, I only recognized the Volvo because it was parked in its usual spot. Seeing it brought back memories of the night before. The vampire himself was leaning against the bumper. Our eyes met as the truck grumbled past. He was still there as Sam and I made our way up the lane.

“Hello Sarah, Sam,” he greeted, voice unfairly smooth and appealing.

Sam glanced my way before lifting a hand. “Hey.”

Edward fell in at my side, matching pace with us as we navigated through the cold mist. If it hadn’t been for Sam, I might’ve asked if the swirling gray air around us was his doing. It was so Dracula.

“Did you have a problem getting to school?” Edward asked, polite as could be.

“No.”

As we reached the sidewalk, Sam shot us a final considering look before saying, “See you,” and taking off for his first class.

Edward and I walked together quietly. Not that the silence lasted. “I thought of offering to drive you today, but I remembered you take your brother.”

“Why would you need to drive me?”

He nodded. “The fog.” He regarded me with a serious expression. “You have trouble seeing through it, don’t you?”

Implicating he didn’t. I tucked a wayward lock of hair behind my ear. “I’m a careful driver.” Even without the fog, I had to be mindful of all traffic laws. There was a machete and two guns in the cab.

His mouth pressed into an unhappy line. Before I could do more than wonder why, it relaxed into a small smirk. “I hope you’re prepared for an interrogation.”

I followed his line of sight and saw nothing but the grey mist around us. It was another few feet before I was able to make out the overhang of the cafeteria’s roof, and a small group of my friends standing beneath it. The closer we got, the more I could make out the surprised expressions on Jessica and Angela’s faces, Lauren’s pinched lips, Eric’s open fascination, and Mike’s furrowed brows.

“Hey guys,” I greeted as we approached.

“Good morning,” Edward said before smiling.

Jessica looked as if a feather might knock her over. “Hi,” she said, voice hesitant.

Stares drawn to Edward, everyone seemed uncertain what to say. Feeling awkward, I hiked my backpack higher up my shoulder and summoned a grin. “Well, see you in English,” I said to Mike.

“Sure,” he said, sounding less than pleased.

I held my hand up in a wave and made my way back to the sidewalk. Edward gave an amused, “Goodbye,” as he kept pace.

“Some interrogation.”

“Oh, it won’t happen while I’m around, but once they corner you alone.” He tilted his head as if he was listening. I supposed he was. “Especially Jessica.” His brows furrowed before he looked down at me. “What will you tell her?”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s going to ask what I was doing with you last night and this morning,” he clarified.

My brows pinched together. “She knows what I was doing with you last night. We had dinner. And you wanted to walk with me to class this morning.”

“Yes. I’m sure that will satisfy her curiosity.” The sarcasm flowed thick and plentiful.

I sighed. “What do you want me to tell her, Edward? It’s not like I can be honest.”

Edward and I paused outside the door to my English class. He looked down, his gaze considering as it roamed my face. “She wants to know if we’re secretly dating. And she wants to know how you feel about me.”

Of course she did. “Is that all?”

Edward’s lips quirked upwards, but his eyes remained intense. “It might not be a bad idea.”

“What?”

His expression remained impassive, but his eyes gleamed. “To tell people we’re dating.”

Despite the chill and the fog, I suddenly felt very warm. I stared up at him, wishing so many things were different. “Edward, I don’t date.”

“It’s the easiest explanation,” he argued smoothly.

“The easiest explanation for what?”

“For spending time together.” His finger swept a stray lock of hair back behind my ear. It was almost as cold as the fog as it brushed over shell of my ear. My heart hammered as I shivered. “I told you. I can’t stay away.”

“Edward,” I said, voice low and quiet as my nerve endings danced. “It’s not _safe_. For either of us.”

He nodded. “I know. I’m sorry.” He really did look remorseful.

I blew out a breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “This is—this is _crazy_.” I looked around, made certain no one was near enough to hear me whisper, “You’re a _vampire_. I’m a _hunter_.”

He only nodded again. Apparently, he had fully surrendered to the madness.

The bell was going to ring. “I have to get to class.” Not that I’d be able to concentrate on anything, given the insanity that was my life at the moment.

“Alright, Sarah.” He started to turn, then paused. “I’ll be waiting to hear your answer,” he said over his shoulder.

I watched him walk away until I really couldn’t wait anymore. The last one to class, my heart was still racing, and my nerves were lit up as I walked to my seat. I wondered if the people around me could tell that… _that_ had just happened. That a vampire had just asked out a hunter. Maybe the demons were all selling snow cones in hell, and pigs were floating around somewhere, because this was demented.

I kept my head down and tried to put my thoughts into some semblance of order. I may as well have tried shooting lasers out of my eyes. There was no sorting the jumble of feelings I had going on. I was too keyed up. I imagined this was probably the ‘normal girl stuff’ Bobby was always going on about. He’d regret saying that if he could see me now!

I knew the right, smart thing to say. No. Obviously it was no. He wanted to kill me the first time we met. My blood was catnip to him. He was hanging out around my house. He was a _vampire_. He may have killed the security guard, and I had no idea when Waylon Forge had died. Was it before he’d followed me to Port Angeles?

…But how would I know if I didn’t investigate? And how would I investigate if I told Edward to leave me alone? That was assuming it was Edward. If it wasn’t, but one of the other vampires in his family, I wouldn’t get close enough to find out.

Maybe Edward was right. This _was_ the easy explanation for spending time together. At the very least, if he was off the rails, placing myself in his path might protect everyone else.

Excitement made it difficult to sit still. I finally had a plan. Granted, it was an insane plan, but it was a plan.

I was buzzing with anticipation all the rest of the way through English and Government. The clock seemed determined to move frustratingly slow. By the time I got to trig and the bell went off, I was ready to get the class over with so I could talk to Edward at lunch.

But as Edward had promised, Jessica barely let me sit at my desk before pouncing. “Tell me everything!”

I leaned over to open my bag. “We talked a little while I ate. Then he took me home,” I said, sticking to the truth. At least as much as I could say.

“It was barely an hour before I heard your truck,” she pointed out.

I flipped open my notebook and plucked a pencil out of my bag. “We didn’t stay long. And he drives faster than you.”

Jessica was far from done with her inquisition. “Did he drive you to school this morning?”

“No. He met me in the parking lot.” I tapped my eraser against my notebook.

My responses were obviously disappointing her, she was practically deflating in her seat. “Are you going out with him again?”

I thought of all I’d learned the last time I’d spent time alone with him. “Yeah.”

“Wow. Edward Cullen,” she breathed like a benediction as she leaned into her chair’s back. “This is—wow.”

That was one word for it. “It’s insane,” I agreed.

She grinned. “Did you kiss?”

The question caught me off guard. A heat rose up my neck, catching fire in my cheeks. Horrified, I tried willing my face to cool off. Hunters do not _blush_.

Jessica’s eyes widened, “Oh my god!”

“No,” I corrected in a rush. “Nothing like that.”

But Jessica was grinning. “You really like him,” she said, clearly enjoying my discomfort way too much.

That was the problem. How could I not admire a handsome guy with superpowers who’d risked so much to save my life? To whom I was becoming the central fixture of their world. I’d never been that important to anyone before. My family would do anything for me if I were in trouble, but Dad was consumed with finding the thing that had killed Mom. Dean had hunting when he wasn’t messing around and Sam had school. I was the odd girl out.

I had to remind myself why I should be cautious. He had meant to kill me once, and even if that had changed, I could _never_ allow myself to forget Edward was dangerous. And how much of his fascination with me was due to his thirst for my blood?

“It’s complicated,” I settled on saying, wishing Mr. Varner would be a little stricter about talking during class. Unfortunately, we weren’t the only ones having a conversation.

“Because you’re leaving?” Jessica guessed.

There was that, too. “Yeah.”

Jessica turned to the front, and I thought that would be the end of my interrogation, when she asked, “Maybe Doctor Cullen will adopt you, too.”

I huffed a soft laugh. Then froze in my seat. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of becoming one of them. The book hadn’t covered how a person became a vampire, but clearly it happened.

Wonderful. Another way things could go horribly wrong.

“I’m good with the family I’ve got,” I settled on saying.

There was more I needed to learn. Which brought me right back to Edward and spending time with him.

Thankfully, Mr. Varner chose that moment to ask Jessica a question. Attention successfully diverted, I was able to put my head down and start sketching in my notebook, trying to look busy. It worked.

When the bell rang and it was time to walk to Spanish, the subject turned to Dean. My warning hadn’t taken root like I’d hoped. Much as I disliked talking about my brother with someone who was developing an infatuation, at least the topic wasn’t Edward.

When Spanish was over, Jessica shot me a canny look. “You’re not sitting with us, are you?”

I shrugged as I slung my bag over my shoulder. “Not sure.”

Our answer came in the form of Edward himself, leaning against the wall outside the classroom. He’d make a great fashion photospread in his pale tan sweater that hinted at the lean lines of muscle underneath, pressed khakis, artfully styled hair, and perfect face. Jessica and I exchanged a glance before she threatened, “See you later, Sarah.”

I turned to Edward. “Hey.”

“Hello.” He sounded pleased.

We walked to the cafeteria together, and from the stares we were garnering, people were noticing. The fact the fog had finally cleared to the usual dim gray afternoon helped give everyone a clear view.

Edward led the way in line. I watched, puzzled, as he filled up the tray at the counter. When I thought back to the fact I’d never seen the Cullens actually eat anything, I felt stupid for not having put two and two together sooner.

When I moved to get my own tray, he stopped me by holding it to the pile. “I’ve got it,” he said.

There was enough food for two on his tray. I let my hand fall from the trays as he carried his to the register and paid, again.

“I’ve got money,” I pointed out as he led the way to the table we’d sat at last Friday. Granted, it was money gained via a credit card scam, but still.

Edward smiled at me as if I’d said something adorable. “Lunch will hardly break my bank account.”

Going by his car and his clothes, probably not.

“I knew Doctors got paid well,” I began as he sat the tray down at the end of a table with a few seniors at the opposite end—who were all staring, “but I wouldn’t have guessed small town doctors got paid as well as a big city job.”

Edward waited for me to sit before sitting on the bench himself. “We have means beyond Carlisle’s income.” He pushed the tray towards me. “Take whatever you’d like.”

It was a veritable cornucopia of school lunch food. So, nothing too tempting, but I’d skipped breakfast. I picked up a slice of peperoni pizza. “What kind of means?” It was probably rude of me to ask, but I couldn’t help but wonder where they got all the money.

“I told you of my… talent.” He watched as I bit into the pizza, apparently fascinated with the sight of me eating. I fought off a bit of self-consciousness as I chewed. “My sister, Alice, has premonitions.”

“No way,” I muttered, amazed. I couldn’t help but look towards the Cullen’s table.

I found the pixie-like vampire already staring. A huge smile spread across her petite features as our eyes met.

“It’s very useful for planning our stock portfolios.”

I tore my eyes away from the smallest Cullen to blink at Edward. “I bet.” Curiosity raged within me. “So—how does that work? She just sees things?”

“The visions are subjective,” Edward said. “The future is always changing. Once someone decides on a course of action, the vision changes.”

No wonder they weren’t worried about hunters, I realized. Alice would see them coming. I turned back to see her still looking in my direction. She lifted her hand and rippled her fingers.

I lifted my own hand. “So—she saw me?”

Edward frowned. “Not until it was too late. Otherwise she would have warned me.”

“Warned you?” I asked, cautious. Did he already know I was searching for the killers among them?

“About that first day in Biology,” he clarified. Before I could ask another question, he leaned forward. “You don’t have to worry about becoming one of us.” His eyes burned with determination. “I would _never_ let that happen to you.”

I stilled, eyes widening in shock. “How did you—” I cut myself off with a grimace. “You heard my talk with Jessica?”

“I told you I’d be listening,” he reminded me.

I shiver traveled down my neck to the base of my spine as I let the pizza drift back to the plate. “But you weren’t in the classroom.”

His lips quirked upwards. “I don’t have to be.” I stared, trying to recalibrate my assumptions about his powers. “The more familiar the person, the farther away I can be and still find them.”

“Like, how far?” I asked, quiet and wary. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to enjoy the answer.

He considered me. “Miles.”

Holy crap. I stared down at the tray of food without seeing any of it, brows knitting together. The more I learned, the more fantastical Edward and his family became. No wonder Bobby and Dad were determined to keep me from hunting them. I had a hard time picturing any hunter managing to get past Alice’s visions and Edward’s mind reading.

Except—here I was.

I lifted my eyes back to the impossibly beautiful vampire across from me and forced myself to take up my pizza.

“I’ve upset you,” he said softly.

“No,” I said, letting loose a breath. “It’s just—you’re kind of unbelievable. You know? Even to me.”

Edward’s lips gave a sharp, bitter twist. “I could say the same of you.”

Leaning back, I scoffed. “Me?” I pointed to him with what was left of the end of my pizza slice. “Compared to you and your family?” I sent him a side-eyed mock-glare.

“You are unlike any other person I’ve ever met,” he said solemnly.

“And how many have you met?” I wondered aloud. “Just how old are you?”

“Seventeen.” His lips gave another of those self-deprecating twists.

The book agreed with the legends on one thing apart from the blood drinking. Immortality. “For how long?”

For an instant, there was an old soul looking out of that perfect, forever frozen face. “A long time.”

I held his stare, taking in Edward’s symmetrical features, the smooth skin, the butterscotch eyes and full lips. Seventeen for the rest of time.

I studied what was left of the pizza and tore off a corner of the crust. I looked forward to getting to eighteen and finally being an adult. Being able to join my Dad and Dean, saving people. Hunting things.

“Do you always have to go to high school?”

He blinked. “No. But the younger we start, the longer we can stay.”

Meaning they had to redo high school over and over. “How are you not bored out of your mind?”

“Usually I am.” His lips did that little lopsided twist again. “Lately I’ve been anything but.”

My lips drew upward involuntarily as my sights fell to the side. “I am awesome company,” I said, trying for breezy. I nearly pulled it off.

I was rewarded with another heart-skipping smile, the kind that reached his eyes and made them sparkle. My heart started beating a little faster. “Do you have any plans this Saturday?”

The warmth was back in my chest. “No.”

“Would you like to spend the day with me?” Edward’s hands moved minutely across the table’s surface. I wondered if he thought about reaching for mine. “The weather will be good, so I’ll be spending it away from public view.”

“Indoors?”

He shook his head. “No. But there’s something you should see. If you’ll risk being alone with me.”

Alone. With the vampire who thirsted after my blood. “Sounds like fun.”

Edward’s face managed to be handsome even as he scowled. “Don’t be so cavalier about risking your life.”

“I’ve already been alone with you,” I reminded him and took another bite.

“You don’t have to go,” he pointed out, frustration pulling his voice taut as a garrote.

I finished chewing. “I know.” I wanted to see whatever it was he thought was worth the risk. And I wouldn’t be defenseless next time.

“I shouldn’t have mentioned it would be dangerous,” he muttered.

“That will make it more interesting,” I agreed. He glowered. I gave my cheekiest grin before starting on the crust.

“You should tell your brothers,” he went on, ignoring my nonchalance.

I shook my head hard enough to dislodge my hair. “No.” Tucking it back behind my ears, I said, “That would be a bad idea.”

I’d begun to notice Edward clenched his teeth when he was especially frustrated. It made his jaw flare even more. “At least give me some incentive to bring you back.”

“If I tell Dean, it’ll put you on his radar. And if he figures out what you are, he won’t care that you saved my life. Or that you only feed on animals.” If that was true.

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Now who’s being careless?” Edward and his family might be powerful, but they weren’t invulnerable.

“Finish your lunch.” Edward pushed the tray closer. “We don’t have much time left before Biology.”

“Bossy,” I observed, but finished the rest of the crust in a few more bites. I grabbed a snack sized bag of chips and a soda from the tray and kept them for stashing in my bag.

I felt bad about all the wasted food as we threw it away. Leaving the building, Edward and I kept pace with each other all the way to my locker and then to class. Wondering all the way what it was he had to show me this weekend.

As we sat, he moved his seat closer to me, until we were nearly touching. I had to keep myself from staring at his arm as it settled next to mine. A racket near the door helped as Mr. Banner backed inside, pulling a cart that carried an old tv and VCR with him.

A movie day. Awesome.

The lights were turned off and the tv winked on. I realized I had a new problem. With Edward so close, my awareness of him grew until it became difficult to focus on anything else. My world seemed to shrink to our table and the inch of space between our arms.

I struggled to expand my senses, to be conscious of my surroundings like Dad had taught us. The soft light filtering in through the blinds shuttering the windows. The hint of chemical cleaners lingering in the air. Mike and James Dohan, his lab partner, whispering and laughing back at their table. The whine of the VCR as it spun the tape.

But like a black hole, Edward inevitably drew my attention back in. He sat so still I wondered if he was even breathing. He smelled of the woods that surrounded Forks, of its tall firs and loamy soil, and a softer scent that reminded me of ginger and sandalwood. A glance out the corner of my eye revealed his profile glowing in the light of the television. His pale skin subtly reflected the colors dancing on the screen.

I swallowed and forced my eyes forward, but my nerves were dancing with energy, making it difficult to sit still. I took a breath, focused on the feel of the air filling my lungs and stretching my ribs, and held it until it was just shy of uncomfortable. I let it out in a long, steady press of air. I went through the exercise several more times. My nerves didn’t calm as much as I liked, but I was able to sit without fidgeting. Or worse, moving my hand over that narrow little inch and touching his hand.

 _Vampire_ , I sternly reminded myself. I slid my hand back towards me, hoping to remove the temptation.

I don’t think I’ve ever stared so hard at a tv screen in my life. Despite that, I couldn’t have said what the movie was about. I was too hyper-aware of Edward. So pathetically in tune I knew he only moved once just after the start of the movie, when he folded his arms across his chest.

The energy was still there when the lights came back on, but as the wider world encroached, it eased off my nerve endings. I felt like I could breathe normally again.

Edward smashed that all to hell with a murmured, “That was interesting.”

He’d either noticed my desperate attempts not to move or had felt the same strange energy. My good sense insisted one was better, my primitive brain vehemently disagreed. I fought for nonchalance as I said, “I don’t know. I thought _Mitochondria and Me_ was better.”

Edward turned his head towards me, eyes smoldering.

I gripped my bag’s strap and stood so fast, I nearly knocked over my stool. Smooth, Winchester.

Edward followed, exhibiting that smoothness I suddenly seemed to lack. We walked out of Biology, and I greedily breathed in the chill afternoon air outside, feeling a bit more cleansed. A bit more normal.

Edward once again walked with me to gym, all the way to changing room door. We lingered outside, neither in a hurry to leave despite the fact we had minutes until the bell rang again.

“Well,” I started, motioning to the door. “This is me.”

Edward’s eyes pierced mine as his brows suddenly pinched together, as if in pain. Before I could ask if he was alright, his hand rose, slowly, as if giving me time to back away. I held in my breath as his fingertips drifted towards my face, eyes widening as they lightly landed on my cheek. His fingers were as cold as the chilly air outside. Despite that, a warmth had blossomed in my cheeks. His fingers brushed across my overheated skin and were gone.

Before I could even think of something to say, Edward had turned on his heel and left.

The ghost of his touch haunted me long after I’d drifted into the changing room. Even the squeaking of sneakers on the gym floor as we lined up for instruction couldn’t banish the strange state I’d suddenly ascended to.

This wasn’t the first time a boy had touched me. I’d had my hand held and even been kissed. But this was so unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I felt alive and yet as if I were dreaming, and the feel of his fingertips lingered on my cheek as if I could summon his phantom with a mere thought. Of course, I couldn’t, and the fact he was now gone raised a strange sort of emptiness at war with the euphoria the memory of his touch evoked in me.

Even when I took up the racket for our change in activities to tennis, my mind was still stuck in the past. My reaction time suffered, but along with my partner—a girl named Tiffany—we managed to win two of our four matches.

Mike was waiting by the gym doors after our last match. He walked up to me as I drew closer. “Hey Sarah.”

“Mike,” I said, pausing despite my anxiousness to be out of the changing room, to see if Edward would be waiting.

“So.” He frowned. “You and Cullen?”

My brows tried to summit my forehead. “Wow. Jess really doesn’t waste any time, does she.”

Mike’s frown deepened. “I don’t like it.”

“I don’t remember asking you,” I said, irritation making my words harsh.

“You said you’d be leaving.”

The irritation was starting to hiss up the fuse to my anger. My eyes narrowed. “I will be.” For the first time, I mourned the fact. Between that and my shortening temper, I decided to exit the conversation before I said something I’d regret. “See you tomorrow,” I groused, pushing past the double door with a loud bang from the handle.

But my irritation didn’t last long back at my locker. The anticipation came back, stronger than ever, as I redressed in my regular layers. I forced myself not to hurry back out into the dim gray daylight.

As I’d hoped, Edward was there, waiting for me beside the door. Unlike before, he looked less than happy. “Hello,” he sounded frustrated, but his voice still managed to make that sound musical.

“What’s wrong?”

Edward’s lips pinched together, jaw flaring before he admitted, “Newton’s getting on my nerves.”

I realized he must have overheard our conversation. “You were listening in again?” My anticipation of earlier fizzled into dismay. My neck prickled as I was starting to feel spied on. Edward started walking without answering. I hurried after. “You can’t keep doing that.”

“I worry when I can’t see you,” he replied, as if that might excuse it.

I fixed him with a fierce glare. “I can take care of myself.”

He frowned. “Newton has an… improper fixation with you.”

“And yours is pure as the freaking snow,” I shot back.

Edward’s frown deepened.

We were getting closer to the truck. I could see Sam already inside. I paused, lowering my voice. “The spying has got to stop, alright?”

Edward looked less than pleased. “I’m not used to being shut out.”

“Well. The rest of us manage to get through the day without reading everyone else’s minds.” It actually sounded fairly horrific. How much crap did he have to filter through?

Edward’s eyes moved to the side. Following his gaze, I saw a group of guys and a few girls surrounding a cherry red convertible parked next to the truck. Edward rolled his eyes as we passed. “Ostentatious.”

“One of yours?” I presumed.

“Rosalie’s.”

Next to the BMW, the Ford was a particularly sore sight. The old truck had more rust spots than paint at this point. I couldn’t help but think Rosalie had parked next to me on purpose.

I was starting to hope _she_ was the one who’d attacked and killed those men.

Sam was already seated in the passenger seat as Edward walked me to the truck bed. Presumably to protect me from any stray vans. “See you tomorrow?”

“If the weather stays overcast,” he agreed.

The weather. Right. I smiled. “Alright. Well.” I shrugged my bag off and tossed it into the back besides Sam’s. “See you then.”

Edward nodded, eyes never leaving me.

That weird electric charge was back as I returned his stared, wondering if he was about to touch me again. Instead, Edward looked to the side. Following his gaze, I saw his family crossing the parking lot. With a hint of reluctance, he moved back towards the silver Volvo parked a few spaces up.

I squeezed past a few of the boys to get into the truck. Sam had an elbow on the door, watching me get in with a far too perceptive stare. I paused, staring out the windshield at the trees and blue house across the street. “What’ll it take to keep you from telling Dean?”

Sam grinned. “All my chores for the rest of our stay.”

“One week.”

Sam’s grin fell. “If we’re here that long.”

My mind shied away from the reminder. “One week, Sam. Take it or leave it.”

“Fine,” Sam agreed.

“And one more thing?” Sam tilted his head back towards me. I met his curious gaze. “How would you feel about a trip to the funeral home?”


	11. Monsters

It wouldn’t be a good idea to visit the funeral home before dark. We stopped for the newspaper at a gas station, and visited a drive through for some food.

Back at the house, Dean was up and waiting. At the sight of the paper bags and tray of sodas, we all migrated to the dining room table.

I was halfway through my burger when Dean announced, “Dad called.”

Sam and I exchanged a glance while I let the hamburger drift back to the plate. “He okay?”

“’Course.” Dean paused to sip his Pepsi before adding, “I didn’t tell him about your little adventure last night.”

“’Cause there’s nothing to tell.”

Sam popped a fry in his mouth and mercifully kept quiet.

Dean shrugged his shoulders and took another bite. Speaking through a mouthful of food, he said, “You lied to me.”

“I told you, I went with Jess and Angela—”

“Whatever,” he cut off, pinning me with one of his hard stares.

I pressed my lips firmly together. Getting in a fight with Dean wouldn’t go my way. He’d only dig his heels in further.

“He’s teamed up with another hunter and they’re trekking the Bogachiel River,” Dean went on after a moment.

“Are they close to catching them?” Sam asked.

Dean shrugged before taking another bite. “Dunno,” he said. His eyes then narrowed on Sam. “Them?”

It was Sam’s turn to shrug. “There were two different sets of teeth markings on the body,” he said.

“You’re assuming the same bastards are responsible,” Dean pointed out.

Sam nodded and looked back to his food. “True.”

After eating, I sat with Dean in the living room watching television to kill time while Sam went upstairs to do his homework. A few hours later, I retreated to my room to look at the paper. The obituaries listed the funeral home Weylon Forge’s body had been taken to for sending cards and flowers. The service was in a few days, so if we were going to get a look at the body, we had to do it soon. Unfortunately for us, it was all the way in Port Angeles.

I had no idea how we were going to sneak past Dean. Maybe claim we were going to a movie? Breaking into a funeral home and looking at a body couldn’t take much longer than an hour and a half.

I tried looking for Sam in the office, but it was empty. I went to his room and knocked on the door. “Come in.”

Sam’s room was bigger than my own. Across the way, I could see a door that probably led to a master bath. The rest was decorated with oak furniture—a standing dresser, king sized bed, and end tables. There were two windows to either side of a carved headboard.

Sam was laying on the bed, wires snaking from his ears down his chest, a paperback book in hand. He pulled an earbud out. “What?”

I lifted the paper. He sat up and reached for it. “Funeral home’s in Port Angeles.”

“Figured it’d be something like that, town this small,” Sam replied as he unfolded the paper and skimmed the obituary.

“Think Dean would buy us going to a movie?”

Sam raised a skeptical brow. “Maybe.” Sam paused, staring off at nothing as the tinny sound of music played on. “How about if we said it was for school?”

I thought of the movie we’d watched in Biology, and the intense feelings I’d had sitting in the dark next to Edward. Shaking the memory off, I focused back on our current problem. “Dean’s not going to believe that we have to see a blockbuster movie for class.”

Sam swung out of the bed, an excited light in his eye. “Not a blockbuster,” he agreed, reaching for the gun resting on the side table. He checked the chamber before tucking it into his holster. He crossed to a folding door, revealing a closet as he pulled it open. His duffle sat beneath several hanging shirts and pants. Unzipping his bag, he shuffled around inside until he emerged with a familiar, thin leather case. His lockpicking kit. “C’mon.”

“Sam?”

“Trust me,” Sam replied.

I followed Sam out of his room and down the stairs. Dean was laying on the sofa, holding his soda cup on his chest as he channel surfed. His eyes shifted to us as we approached before returning to the tv.

Sam went for the coat closet. “We’re going to Port Angeles.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Dean replied, gaze leaving the television as his brows dropped into a sharp v.

Sam pulled his jacket out before turning to regard Dean. Meanwhile, Dean had sat up and set his soda on the coffee table.

With my own jacket in hand, I met Dean’s suspicious gaze. “C’mon, Dean. We’re just going to see a movie.”

“It’s extra credit for class,” Sam added, shrugging into his jacket.

“What class?”

“French,” Sam answered. “There’s a special showing of _De battre mon cœur s'est arrêté_ at the Green Theater.” Zipping up his jacket, Sam added, “Or you can take me and—”

Dean tossed up his hands, palms out, “No way, man.” He looked horrified at the suggestion. “Having to read during a movie is just wrong.”

Bless Sammy’s quick and devious mind.

We didn’t stick around to give Dean a chance to change his. The chill was back as the sun started to fall outside. “That’s another week of chores you owe me,” Sam said once we’d shut the doors to the truck.

The truck woke up with a growl that rattled the steering wheel. I threw it in reverse and eased out of the driveway. “Like you don’t want to find out as much as I do.”

Sam shrugged before he turned to look out the window.

The drive to Port Angeles took longer than it had with either Jess or Edward. We still had our weapons in the cab, but even if we didn’t, I doubt the truck could’ve managed anything over sixty-five without shuddering apart.

Seagan’s Funeral Home was on the Northern side of town, inland from the bay. It looked like an especially long ranch house. A large billboard out front displayed images of the recently deceased on a video screen. Waylon Forge’s picture flashed, a shot of the man holding a huge fish on a dock, smiling. Beside the picture was the date of the viewing and burial.

We turned onto the next block, finding ourselves in a residential area. We went down a few houses before parking on the street next to the curb.

“Here,” Sam said, handing me a ski mask he must have grabbed from the closet and his lockpicking kit.

I pulled it on, heart picking up as the synthetic fabric settled over my face. “Can you get me fifteen minutes?”

A gleam of excitement lit up Sam’s hazel eyes. “Yeah.”

We exited the truck. The walk back to Seagan’s was brisk. I kept my hood up and my head down. When the building came into view, we exchanged a short nod and went our separate ways. Sam to the front door to handle anyone that may still be inside with a bogus story. I headed to the back of the building.

There was another parking lot, complete with hearse. I crossed the lot at a quick jog, coming up to a back entrance covered by a long dark blue awning and lit by a buzzing porchlight. I had to trust that Sam was doing his part as I unzipped the lockpicking set. The hooks inside could've been mistaken for dental instruments.

The trick to picking a lock is patience. A lot easier said than done when you’re breaking and entering. The heart picks up, adrenalin floods the bloodstream, fight or flight instincts are running high. I wasn’t the fastest at manipulating tumblers, but the lock wasn’t complicated, and I had it disengaged in under three minutes.

That left me twelve.

I slipped inside, into a long hallway. To my right was a small kitchenette, ahead of me were a series of doors. Checking behind the nearest, I found a viewing room, replete with platform at the end and rows of chairs going all the way to the wall. Backing out, I took a wild guess that the rest of the doors would lead to similar rooms. They wouldn’t keep the bodies and embalming equipment out where anyone could accidentally walk in on them.

I hurried down the hall until I found a set of stairs halfway along that led down. Taking a chance, I rushed the steps, emerging into another, shorter hall that led to a single door.

Opening it, I discovered the basement had been transformed into a makeshift morgue. The walls and floor were tiled, and a freezer built to hold bodies made up the far wall. The cabinets held plastic bottles of chemicals and tubing—which I guessed must be the embalming equipment. The steel table was equipped with the same draining system the tables in the morgue at the hospital had.

I expected to have to search for the victim, but he was already laid out—his chest parted, ribs pulled out and splayed open like antlers. I had to grip the doorframe at the view, a shudder running through my whole body that threatened to bring up the dinner from my stomach. I managed to hold it in, and with several swallows, approached the naked body.

Despite the room’s low temperature, a strange odor emanated from the open cavity. I tried holding my breath as I leaned over the still, waxlike corpse. Glancing in the chest, I blinked.

It was empty.

I could see all the way to the spine, the back of the rib cage, and the muscles holding them together. Looking further down, I saw the abdomen was a dark, empty cavern. From a nearby tray, I grabbed a glove and snapped it on. Grimacing, I slid my fingers between the incision that trailed down the belly and lifted the thick flap of skin and muscle. Nothing.

I wondered if it had to do with Doctor Cullen’s autopsy, but couldn’t figure out why he’d pull out the organs.

Tearing my sights away from the empty cavity, I noticed the neck had a wound similar to the security guard’s. Shifting my examination to the arms, I found the same human teeth marks, mostly around the wrist and forearm. Vampires.

Stepping back, I bumped into a rolling tray. Something squelched as it rocked. Whirling, I looked down and found one of the missing organs. The liver. A chunk had been torn out of it, almost like a someone had taken a bite.

I stared, confused. Vampires didn’t eat their victim’s organs.

I started looking a bit closer at my surroundings. On a nearby counter was a sink and several Tupperware containers. Once I was close enough, I saw several more in the sink, surrounded by ice. Their lids were labeled with permanent marker. Heart. Lung. Small intestine. Kidney.

I grabbed one and yanked the lid off.

It took me a moment to recognize what I was looking at. The gray, wrinkled tissue was squished against the sides of the container, making the brain look somewhat square instead of round. Gorge rising, I set the Tupperware back into the sink.

“What are you doing down here?”

Startled, I backed up as I swung towards the doorway. A man in a black rubber apron stood within, blocking the only way out.

My heart jacked into overdrive. I glanced quickly around, seeking some excuse. “Um,” I tried, realizing I had nothing to say.

The man, eyes narrowing, stepped past the doorway. He was tall and lean, wearing a button up shirt with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of gray slacks. He had to be in his early forties. “Thought it would be fun to break into a funeral home?” he questioned, voice stern as he stepped nearer to the body and me.

I couldn’t exactly admit I was looking for evidence of a vampire attack.

“What’s your name?”

Aside from the heartbeat pounding in my ears, I kept quiet.

He stopped near the tray I had knocked aside. His eyes took in the sight of the liver. They lingered. “Well,” he said pleasantly, “that’s unfortunate.” His gaze lifted to meet mine. “Suppose it’s what I get for having a little snack before suppertime.”

… _oh_.

My spine stiffened, muscles tightening in my arms and legs. The ghoul started to move, but I drew my gun. I aimed at its head. “Don’t,” I warned, voice hard.

It lifted its hands, but its eyes were bright and fixed on me. “Alright. Calm down.”

I kept my gun trained. It’d take a lot of brain damage to put it down. More than my twenty-two would cause. I wished I’d thought to bring the shotgun from the truck.

It moved so fast, I reacted too late. It had already ducked to the side as I fired. I moved to re-aim. It closed the distance between us. It grabbed my gun hand. I squeezed the trigger. This close, the sound of the gun had my ears ringing. The ghoul jerked and grunted, but didn’t fall back. I fired again, smelt the gunpowder. The ghoul bared its teeth.

With more strength than an ordinary man would have, it forced my arm back to the counter, and smashed my wrist against the edge. The shock on my bones caused my hand to spasm. The gun fell.

Its hand wrapped around my throat and squeezed. My lungs tried to suck in air, but there was nothing to draw. They spasmed. Dark spots danced in front of the ghoul’s borrowed face.

It smiled down at me. “Fresh meat.” Its grip tightened on my throat, and I feared I was another squeeze away from my windpipe being crushed. I grabbed hold of its wrist and pulled, but it was as if I were trying to yank a tree from the ground. Its hand didn’t budge. “What a treat.”

Its mouth opened, teeth white and shining as it leaned forward. Hot breath hit my cheek.

“HEY!”

The furious call had the ghoul pausing long enough to twist around.

Dean stood behind it, arms wound back as if prepared to go to bat. His eyes burned with hate as they locked on the ghoul’s.

He swung.

The ghoul’s head was knocked off it’s newly severed neck. It hit the floor with a meaty thump.

The hand holding my throat relaxed. I wrenched it off, pushing the arm away. Not a moment too soon as the neck began to spurt blood as the body crumpled to the floor.

Dean’s arms dropped to his sides, a machete in one of his hands. “You okay?” His sights swept over me, checking for injuries.

“Yeah.” I pulled off the ski mask and swallowed. Aside from a bad ache in my throat that was probably going to get worse and a smarting wrist, I’d come out pretty good, considering. I took a shaky breath before pressing off the counter.

I stared down at the body. Blood gushed from the neck, spreading across the floor in a shiny red puddle. The head had come to a stop next to the wall. It stared up at us with glassy eyes, mouth still open.

“Good.” As soon as Dean said it, his gaze hardened. “ _This_ is the reason you don’t go off hunting on your own.”

“I didn’t,” I defended weakly. “Sam—”

“Yeah. Not a good time to bring up the fact you brought our little brother into this, Sarah,” Dean groused, glaring. “What if this son of a bitch had gotten you, huh? Who do you think he’d have gone after next?”

I winced. Risking my life was one thing. Risking Sam’s… “Okay,” I insisted. “I get it. I screwed up.”

“Yeah, you did.” He turned to look at the body on the table before twisting back to me. “You get what you came for?”

I’d confirmed my suspicions. “Vampires killed him,” I said quietly.

Dean ran a hand through his short hair before letting out a long breath.

At the sound of footsteps clambering down the stairs, Dean lifted the machete. I picked my gun off the floor.

Eyes wide, Sam sprinted through the doorway. He came to an abrupt and startled halt seeing the two of us brandishing weapons. As Dean and I lowered them, Sam’s sights swept the room and came to rest on the body oozing blood on the floor. “What the hell happened?”

“Ghoul,” Dean said shortly. He lifted his machete and twisted it over, frowning at the blade. With a shake of his head, he sheathed it at his hip.

Sam stared at the head. “No way.” He swallowed. “He seemed normal.”

“Yeah, they always do. Right before they start carving you up for dinner.” Dean nudged the body, grimacing at the spreading pool of blood. “Now we’ve got to get rid of it.” He looked to Sam. “Here,” he said, tossing his keys. Sam caught them. “There’s a couple of tarps in the trunk. Grab ‘em.” As Sam backed up, Dean turned to me. “Clean up the blood. Use bleach. Then wipe down anything you touched.”

It took some searching, but eventually I found a mop and bleach in a closet. While Dean and Sam loaded the body and the head onto a tarp, I soaked up the blood. I had to use the second half of the sink, since the other was still filled with ice and the bag. The stench of copper and chemicals was really testing my stomach.

“What do we do with the organs?”

“Throw ‘em in a trash bag,” Dean grunted as he and Sam lifted the tarp-wrapped corpse. “We’ll take ‘em with us.”

“What are we doing with them and the body?” Sam asked.

“Got an idea for that,” Dean replied as he nodded towards the door. “Let’s move.”

By the time Dean came back down, I had the floor scrubbed and the Tupperware from hell tossed into a black trash bag. It wasn’t a thorough job, and the mop and sink would probably have evidence, but at least everything _looked_ clean. Dean gave the floor a once-over, took the bag, and nodded. “Awesome. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

I stopped on our way out to put the mop and bleach back in the closet and followed Dean back up the stairs. “You touch anything up here?” He asked as we made for the backdoor.

“No,” I told him. Then I remembered the first door I’d tried. “Wait,” I said, rushing over. I slid my sleeve down my hand and wiped at the handle. When I was done, I nodded, and we left.

Outside, I found the truck and Impala idling. Sam was waiting for us in the truck.

“Where are we going?” I asked, trying not to think about the fact there was a body in the back.

“Forks,” Dean said, flinging the bag into the truck bed. “To the graveyard outside of town.”

The drive to Forks was tense as I followed the Impala’s break lights. Dean kept to the speed limit, allowing the truck to keep up. I imagined I could hear the body in the truck bed thumping at every bump in the road. I had to keep easing my grip on the wheel. My neck was starting to smart.

We were almost to Forks when Sam suddenly said, “I tried to keep him talking.”

I cleared my throat. “I know you did.” I glanced at Sam. “It probably heard me. They have heightened senses.”

“I guess.” The defeat in Sam’s voice made me feel awful.

“This wasn’t your fault.” I grimaced. “It was mine.”

Sam frowned. “What did you find?”

“Same marks.” I took a breath before telling Sam, “It’s vampires.”

“For real?” For a moment, Sam’s despondency lifted as curiosity took over. “Vampire vampires? Dracula? Nosferatu?”

I nodded. “Dean confirmed it.”

Sam’s gaze drifted back out the windshield, eyes narrowing in thought. “Can’t be like the movies. Are they?”

“No.” I turned down the heater before adding, “I got a book this weekend. You can read it when we get back.”

“You already knew?”

“Suspected,” I lied.

“Good guess,” Sam replied.

The guilt was as bad as the ache in my throat.

The graveyard was a few miles outside the town in a patch of cleared land off the highway. The impala passed the gate, driving further up until we were just out of sight of the graves, then pulled over. I coasted up behind and shut off the engine.

Not even the crickets were chirping as we got out, making the creaking doors sound all the louder. It was just the whisper of wind as it moved through the tall firs and the sound of our footsteps crushing the grass as we moved to the truck bed. Another creak rang out. Up ahead the Impala’s trunk had been opened.

“Now what?” I asked once Dean joined us. He had two shovels in his hands.

“Now we find where they were going to plant the vic,” Dean replied, handing me the shovels, a flashlight, and a pair of work gloves.

Holding the shovels’ handles under the crook of my arm, I pulled on the gloves as Sam dropped the truck bed open and climbed up. Dean leaned forward and took hold of the nearest end of the ghoul’s wrapped body, using his strength to drag it closer to the edge. Once he had a good hold, Sam hoisted up the other end. They lifted the body out of the truck, giving Sam a moment to drop down from the back. That left the garbage bag of organs to me.

Sam and Dean walked fast despite the load. No one wanted to linger. It was pitch black, the cloudy sky lacking a single star. I had to use the flashlight since there weren’t any streetlights this far out from the town. Luckily, there didn’t look to be any buildings built for a groundskeeper or security guard, and the highway was quiet.

It wasn’t hard finding the intended gravesite of Waylon Forge. A backhoe was parked off in a side section. Once we were close enough, we could see the dark outline of the rectangular hole beside it.

Dean and Sam carried the body to the edge. Sam and I looked to Dean. Dean nodded towards the dark pit. “Toss him in and cover him up. They’ll lay the coffin on top and no one’ll be the wiser.”

That… might actually work. Sam and Dean swung the body back and forth before letting it fly into the grave. It hit with a hard thump. I tossed the garbage bag in after it. The Tupperware inside clattered as it met the ground. Dean reached for a shovel and headed for the big mound of dirt at the head of the grave. I moved to help.

It was much easier than digging up a body. We only needed to put down enough dirt to cover the tarp and bag from sight and level out the sides. Sam took over flashlight duty.

We were ten minutes in when I worked up the courage to ask, “How’d you know to follow us?”

Dean looked up as he stabbed the head of his shovel into the dirt. “You didn’t think that crap excuse would really work on me, did you?” He looked offended at the thought.

Sam and I exchanged a glance. Dean snorted.

About half an hour in, we had to turn the flashlight off and duck down when we heard a car approaching from the highway. Fortunately, it cruised past. As soon as it was gone, we were back at it.

All in all, it didn’t take long. About an hour later, just shy of ten, we were back at the cars. Dean loaded the shovels and flashlight back into the trunk. Sam and I climbed into the truck while he got in the Impala and took off.

Back at the house, after slipping out of my jacket and hanging it back in the closet, I hurried up the steps for the bathroom. Flicking on the light, my eyes sought out the mirror over the sink. Catching sight of my neck, I winced. Several thick red marks stood out starkly from the rest of my skin. I knew that by morning they’d be black and blue. They wouldn’t be easy to explain away.

I’d just have to wear a scarf until the marks faded.

Shutting off the light, I left the bathroom. The hall was empty. Sam’s door was shut. In the quiet, a memory of the ghoul’s breath sweeping across my cheek surfaced. I reached up and rubbed at my face, grimacing as I tried to ignore the phantom sensation. A shiver still worked down my spine as I entered my bedroom.

The pale figure standing in the corner startled me into reaching for my gun the second time that evening.

Luckily, I recognized Edward before I drew. My hand went from my holster to my chest to catch my heart in case it shot out. “Holy crap,” I breathed. “Don’t _do_ that.”

Edward’s expression was fraught with tension, his stare worryingly intense. “Alice had a vision,” he said, so soft it was almost too quiet to hear.

I carefully closed the door and stepped closer. “A vision?”

“Of you.” His sights flickered lower and pain drew his features taut. “Being choked.”

He closed the rest of the distance between us, staring at my neck. His hand reached out, halting just shy of touching my skin. It curled into a fist. “I couldn’t find you.”

Guilt tore through me once again. I had trouble meeting Edward’s tortured eyes. “I ran into a ghoul.”

“A ghoul,” Edward repeated. He was close enough to pick up the scent of sandalwood and ginger again. The tension began to drain out of me as I breathed it in past the ache in my throat.

“Yeah. They’re a type of shifter. They eat the dead.” I wanted to lean forward, feel his arms wrap around me. Instead, I folded my arms across my chest, grabbing my biceps. “Usually they stick to graveyards, but sometimes they’ll kill for a meal.”

“Alice didn’t see you in a graveyard.”

I started to nod when I remembered my neck. “I was in a funeral home.” Edward’s brows raised, questioning. I rubbed my arms, gaze falling to the side. “Just—checking the usual haunts out. Ghouls go where the bodies are.”

“You went looking for it?” Anger lowered his voice, roughened it. “You could have died.”

Another stab of guilt had my chest tightening. I angled away, stared out the dark window. “But I didn’t,” I defended, willing myself to meet his glower. “And we got a ghoul.”

“A ghoul’s life isn’t worth the risk,” he insisted through clenched teeth.

I lifted my chin, ignoring the protests from my windpipe. “If it went after me, it might’ve gone after someone else.”

“Then let it!” he hissed.

It would’ve stunned me less if he’d punched me. Eyes wide, I stared. He glared back. “I can’t let a monster roam around.”

His lips twisted. His voice back to its usual silky smoothness as he pointed out, “And yet, here I am.”

No. Now it was as if he’d punched me. My shoulders curled forward as I tightened my hands where they were already squeezing my biceps. “That’s different,” I murmured.

“Is it?” His glare burned.

“You don’t kill,” I insisted. “That’s what you said.”

Edward turned his head to the side, glaring at the closet. “Not anymore.”

My stomach clenched so hard, I was closer to vomiting than I’d been standing over the emptied corpse. I shook my head. “No,” I muttered, squeezing the words through my tightening throat. The ache was beginning to burn.

“I did, once. Men who did horrible things.” He tapped his temple. “I could hear their thoughts, knew their crimes. So I made myself their judge, jury, and executioner.”

I closed my eyes. I saw the ghoul, mouth wide, teeth bared, leaning towards me.

Is that what Edward’s victims had seen?

I forced my eyes open, made myself look at that beautiful face. His eyes still burned with an angry light, the amber color duller than before. Darker.

I thought of the machete under the bed. “I’m tired,” I said, voice leached of all emotion, leaving it dull and flat.

Edward’s expression smoothed, becoming more like a Renaissance statue than a living, breathing man. Of course, he wasn’t a man. I had to remember that. He studied me for a moment before saying, “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I endured the throbbing pain in my throat to nod and walked with him to the window. He paused, looking down on me. I thought I saw a shadow of regret in his dark eyes. Then he was gone, too fast to follow with human sight.

I stepped back until my legs hit the mattress and let myself collapse on top. I stared at the closet, seeing so much more than the wooden doors.

That night was the first time I dreamt of Edward.


	12. Dilemmas

Dean, Sam, and I were in the woods, following a trail of human footprints. Every so often Dean would point them out to me and ask, “What do you see?”

I’d reply, “Just a deer.”

But Dean wouldn’t believe me. He’d kept on the hunt. Sam and I followed like ducklings. The trail led to many monsters—shifters, wendigos, and the ghoul from the funeral home. Dean would tell me to kill each thing we found, and I would with ridiculous ease. A swing of my machete and they’d be dead.

At some point, the woods thinned into mounds of snow and frozen rivers. We followed the footprints through an arctic landscape. Edward waited at the end. He sat on top of his Volvo parked at the edge of a sheer cliff, overlooking a black sea. The bright green lights of the aurora borealis glowed above him in a midnight-blue sky dusted with stars. He was like a beautiful marble statue, too perfect to be real.

“Kill him,” Dean ordered, exactly as he had before.

I approached from behind, aware in the way of dreams that Edward knew I was there. I had to climb onto the trunk, but it didn’t give. When I was close enough to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, I raised my machete.

I couldn’t let it fall.

“Kill him!” Dean demanded.

My arm wouldn’t move. I stood behind Edward, machete raised, and trembled.

He turned. “Sarah,” Edward said, sounding sad, eyes black as coal. His mouth stretched impossibly wide as he snarled. I still couldn’t move. He lunged.

As he knocked me down, I heard Sam’s dry voice observe, “Your boyfriend’s killing you.”

I woke, Sam’s words a haunting echo in my mind. I tried to shake them off, but they mixed with Edward’s confession. Sitting up in the bed, I rubbed my face and sought out the window. It was still dark outside. Sadly, I was wide awake with an aching throat.

I readied myself for the day and still had hours before school. And Edward. I had my plan to carry out but couldn’t ignore what was said. He’d taken human life.

The knowledge kept stealing my attention, causing me to stop and pause, to breathe and think. He’d said only men guilty of horrible crimes—but did that justify it? He had been driven by bloodlust. Wasn’t the rest just an excuse to ease his conscience?

Could monsters have a conscience?

It was confusing. I had only my upbringing to guide me. By the philosophy of Dad and Dean, the only good monster was a dead one. I’d thought I believed that too. Then one had saved me.

It was simpler believing he’d never given in to the bloodlust. Still not black and white anymore, but on the lighter side. Now it was all on a steady downward slide towards the other end. Things were easier before I’d noticed all these shades of gray.

I dug my winter scarf from the bottom of my duffle, uncertain how I was going to get away with wearing it all day every day until my bruising went down. Not that I was much for trends and styles—there was no way to be a fashionista on a scam budget (and not get caught)—but I did like to dress somewhat normal. I supposed fielding looks was the price I’d pay for skipping into a ghoul’s lair unprepared. Considering the alternative, it wasn’t much of a price at all, really.

Since Dean still had the couch, I pulled open my backpack and attempted to do some homework. It went about as well as I expected. Which was to say not very. But making the attempt was a step up from not handing anything in.

By the time I heard Sam enter the bathroom, I packed the homework away and went downstairs.

Dean was still laying on the couch, on his stomach, television on. I tried to sneak past but ended up noticing his eyes were cracked open with the machete in hand before I reached the archway. He frowned and slid the machete back under the couch before closing his eyes. I hurried into the kitchen, glad to be spared the worst of grumpy Dean.

Eating was painful. Each swallow felt as if I were shoving food through a too narrow, tender ring of bruises. I managed half my cereal before giving in to the worsening ache.

Sam joined me a half hour later and I waited with him while he ate. It was time to leave after he was done rinsing his bowl in the sink.

Dean continued to ignore us in favor of sleeping as we hurried past, exiting into another dim gray morning. The drive to school was filled with music from the radio. At the parking lot, I noticed Edward’s Volvo but no sign of the vampire himself. Part of me was relieved not to have to deal with him, but I was disappointed too—which made me question how close I was getting.

I had exited the truck, wondering if I was too compromised to see clearly, and was gathering my bag when I turned and found myself face to face with the smallest of the Cullen clan. I took a startled step back.

Despite my reaction, she boasted a smile that shone in her eyes, making them the color of warm, sunlit honey. “Hi. I’m Alice.” Her voice was as lilting and musical as her brother’s. I wondered if it was a vampire thing.

“Um, hi.” I could feel Sam’s curious stare as he climbed out of the cab.

Alice’s gaze fell to my neck, and I stiffened. “I thought you might need this,” she went on in the same friendly manner, either oblivious to the tension radiating off me or ignoring it. She held up her hands.

Folded across her the white palms was a beautiful scarf. The red and black fabric shimmered even in Fork’s dim light.

“It’ll look cute with your jacket,” she added. She inched her hands and the scarf towards me. “Here.”

Bemused, I lifted the offering and blinked at the way the fabric slid across my skin. Silk. “This looks really expensive.”

Alice shrugged. “I haven’t worn it. It’s not my usual style.” Her eyes took on a faraway look as she added, “I only knew I needed to buy it when I saw it.” She blinked, refocusing on my neck again. Her voice took on a knowing tone as she added, “Sometimes we have to trust that we’ll know what to do when the time comes.” Her smile turned impish as she added, “Like giving you this scarf.”

I wasn’t sure how to refuse a psychic gift, so I accepted my fate. I unwound my chunky winter scarf and placed it on the cab seat before draping Alice’s gift around my neck. The silk felt cool against my skin as it slid into place, and it was so light it didn’t disturb my bruises. I carefully wrapped the ends around each other before tucking them under my jacket.

Alice’s elfin face lit up with delight. “Perfect,” she decided.

It was impossible not to find her enthusiasm infectious. I smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Sarah.” Her expression turned serious. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

I shifted my feet. “Me too.”

The grave cast to her face lifted as quickly as it had fallen, and the lighter mien was back. “See you later.” The way she said it made it sound more like a promise than a casual goodbye between strangers. Alice waved and walked off with that same odd grace all the Cullens had.

I made my way after, only to be stopped at the back of the truck by Sam as he wondered, “Who was that?”

“Edward’s sister Alice,” I explained, reaching up and touching the scarf.

As we walked to our classes, I wondered if Alice had ever given in to her bloodlust like Edward had. If she was the one responsible for the security guard and Waylon Forge. She didn’t look or act like a killer, but neither had the ghoul until it had attacked.

The thought haunted me through the rest of the morning.

In Trig, Jessica complimented my scarf. I didn’t mention it was a gift from Alice. If I had, I’d have more impossible questions to answer.

All too soon, the bell for lunch rang. I gathered my bag, forcing myself to get out of my seat and move with the rest of the class to the door. Jessica was wondering if she should ask Dean to the Spring dance. It was a testament to how distracted I was that I didn’t try to change the subject.

Finding Edward waiting outside, just as he had the day before—which already seemed a lifetime away—evoked both relief and a new tension. He stood straighter at my appearance, joining me as Jess walked away with a look promising another soon-to-come interrogation.

Edward’s eyes were full of emotion. Too much to hope to decipher. He glanced at the scarf, brows constricting.

People were staring as they passed. “C’mon,” I said, starting down the sidewalk. Edward followed wordlessly.

We kept quiet all the way to the cafeteria, tethered by a different tension than before. A tension filled with too much left unspoken that was fit to burst at the first wrong word.

This time, when Edward took a tray, I grabbed his hand before it could pick up the strawberry milk. The shock of cold skin drew our gazes. His darted away first, lips pressed together and brows drawn low. I plucked up a bottle of tea instead, placing it down on his tray. His shoulders relaxed, his sights returned, watching as I chose lunch. I said nothing as he paid.

Our table, as I’d already come to think of it, was again devoid of either his family or the friends I’d made. We sat across from one another. Edward watched as I chose the macaroni. Swallowing was as uncomfortable at lunch as it’d been at breakfast. Having his sights fixed on me helped give me the incentive not to wince. It still felt like downing bowling balls.

“I’m sorry.”

I paused, spork halfway to my mouth. Carefully I set it down. Edward’s hands were folded, his fingers whiter than the rest of his already pale skin. His eyes shone, earnest and sorrowful. Something in his still form was almost too stiff, as if a tap on the shoulder might make him crumble.

He went on. “But I can’t stand the thought of you in danger.” The muscles in his face tightened, as if even the memory caused agony.

“Any apology followed by a but is worth ass,” I muttered. Pretty sure I’d heard that from Bobby at some point, but it was worth stealing.

Edward’s lips pressed even firmer together, until they nearly disappeared. After a moment, he nodded. “You’re right. There’s no excuse for the harsh things I said. I should have controlled myself better.”

I blew out a breath and grabbed my tea. As I unscrewed it, I said, “Yeah, well. Lots of things could’ve gone better last night.” That was the truest thing I could think to say without the risk of pushing Edward away.

Edward looked to his hands for a moment. “Not knowing where you were when I saw what was happening—” his jaw flared. His eyes flew up to meet mine. “You shouldn’t have gone.”

I gripped the glass bottle. “Yeah. We already started this talk.” I fixed him with a poignant look. “You really want to go down this road again?”

Edward turned his head away. His jaw flared again. “No.” After a moment spent glaring across the cafeteria, he turned back. “You won’t be dissuaded?”

“You may as well ask me to stop breathing.” I stared back, defiant. “I’m a hunter. Take it or leave it.” I took a swig of tea… and immediately regretted how large a gulp it had been as I struggled to swallow all of it down my smarting throat.

Edward’s eyes narrowed. “Then, next time, take me with you.”

I nearly spat out my drink. My eyes widened. “To hunt?”

Edward nodded.

“No way,” I blurted. A few of the seniors at the other end of the table looked over. I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “I can’t take you hunting, Edward.”

His brows dove over the bridge of his nose. “Why not?”

I stared. “You’re—you,” I said, waving a hand. Somehow, his brows managed to go even lower. I set my bottle down, wondering how my life had taken another absurd turn so quickly after the last. It was starting to feel as if things were careening out of control.

“This is the compromise,” Edward insisted. His brow ticked up. “Alice will know if you intend to hunt again. And then I’ll know.” His lips curled slightly. “Asking me along saves time.”

This did not make me feel any better. Did she know I was hunting now? Gritting my teeth, I glared before asking, “And how do I explain you to Dean? Or Sam?”

“I can follow without being seen,” Edward proposed.

I gripped my spork tighter before stabbing a noodle. Lips pinched together, I had to relax my mouth long enough to say, “This is ridiculous.”

Edward leaning towards me drew my attention from my plate. “Nothing is more important to me than your safety.”

“That’s what everyone says.” I forced another bite, glaring at the hapless noodles. No one made this much of a fuss over Dean. “I’m not some delicate flower.”

A small smile lifted the corners of Edward’s lips. “From my perspective, all humans are.”

I redirected my glare. This time, he was unrepentant as he stared back. I returned to my meal as I muttered, “I don’t plan on hunting anymore ghouls, anyway.”

“Good.” There was a world of relief in that one word.

I wanted to ask more about his confession, but the middle of a busy cafeteria wasn’t the place to discuss his past murders. “Will you tell me anything else about Saturday?”

A troubled shadow fell over his face before he smoothed his expression. “We’ll be hiking.”

So not only alone, but alone in the middle of the vast wilderness surrounding Forks. If it weren’t for his protectiveness, I’d have suspected he was trying to get me alone to drain me.

A darker notion occurred to me then. Perhaps he didn’t want anything else to get to me first.

“You really should tell your brothers,” he said softly, as if he had read my mind.

I should. Edward was not innocent. “Sam knows we’re close.” I sought him out as I admitted his role. Sam was sitting among a group of Sophomores, listening to another boy talking animatedly. If something happened, Sam would tell Dean. Dean would tell Dad. They’d take care of it.

The notion shouldn’t have been as painful as it was. My mind tried to shy from it, but I thought of the machete in my truck. Would it be more responsible to let Dad and Dean deal with Edward? Or just cowardly?

Edward was watching, his usual intense stare, as if soaking up every moment with me. He had just finished telling me how important my safety was to him, yet here I was wondering if I could go through with killing him or if I should pass the job off to someone else.

I’d have to hack him apart. I tried to picture swinging the machete at his neck, replacing the ghoul’s head from the night before with Edward’s—

My chest constricted as my stomach twisted. Unbidden, my eyes started to burn. I looked to the side and swallowed. Hoped the pain in my throat would distract me from the sudden harm I’d done with a mere thought.

I summoned the nightmare, the clear vision of Edward lunging towards me, mouth open and teeth shining white. His breath would be as cool as his hands—if he breathed at all.

I rubbed my face.

I knew being a hunter wouldn’t be easy, but no one had ever prepared me for this.

I blinked back the gathering tears and speared another noodle.

“But not Dean?”

I sighed, glancing up. “Not Dean.” The sudden dip of Edward’s brows demonstrated his displeasure with my answer. I remembered Dean swinging his machete. It had been a clean kill. “Are you so eager to die?” My words were soft, but sharp.

Intense emotion was back in Edward’s stare. “If I ever did something to hurt you? Absolutely.”

I dropped my own stare back to the tray, grip tightening until the plastic handle started to bend.

What monster would say that?

I looked back up, searching for some hint of deception—but Edward looked nothing but earnest.

It was almost too much to hear. I didn’t know what to do with his declaration. A vampire who’d rather die than drink my blood.

I drew a deep breath, trying to calm my mind. Or, at the very least, my heart. I forced a smile. “You don’t ever do small talk, do you?” I was pleased when my voice came out normal.

Edward blinked before leaning back. The small, amused smile was back. “I could. I have questions.”

“Questions?” I’d meant to try and lighten the mood, but now I was cautious of what would come next.

He took me completely off guard as he asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

“My favorite—” I paused, shaking my head. I started to laugh but stopped at the flare of pain from my neck. “Um, red.”

He grinned, as if this small tidbit delighted him. “Your favorite movie?”

I pursed my lips in thought. “I don’t know if I could pick one,” I settled on after a moment.

“Then name the ones that come to mind.”

I shrugged as I took a bite, taking the opportunity to think as I chewed. “A little of everything, I guess. I like Aliens and Back to the Future. I love Toy Story Two. Tangled. Finding Nemo makes me cry,” I admitted with a wry smile that Edward returned. “I always watch the Wizard of Oz when it’s on. And the Godfather. I think Legally Blonde is a genuine classic. Fury Road was amazing.” I arched a brow. “Is that a good enough list?”

“To start,” he replied.

The rest of our lunch was spent with Edward quizzing me on the rest of my likes and dislikes. He seemed determined to wring every bit of esoteric information out of me. It lasted all the way to Biology, and even after we sat at the lab table, he kept on quizzing me until Mr. Banner walked in.

He was pushing the television and VCR before him again. Edward shifted his seat further away—a move which might have offended me before yesterday’s class. Now I was grateful.

Not that the extra space helped. I was still aware of him, still felt that electricity. Had the desperate wish he’d close the space between us. Only this time, it was mixed up with all my worries and fears. They all swirled together until I felt I might go mad from the overwhelming blend of emotions as my head warred with my heart. By the time the lights flickered on, I realized nothing was going to be simple with Edward.

I was definitely in way over my head.


	13. Instincts

My thoughts weren’t any clearer when it came to Edward and the Cullens, but that didn’t stop me from anticipating the time I spent with him. The questions continued over the lunches that followed. Any and everything from the things I liked and disliked, my childhood, favorite memories, and what I did in my spare time. It was as if he wanted me to tell him all the thoughts and feelings he couldn’t see himself.

He spent so much time asking about me I didn’t get much about Edward or his family in return. Edward seemed far too interested in my life to spare any details about his. When I pointed out the one-way street our conversations were on, he gave me one of his dazzling smiles and claimed that it was his turn until the weekend.

This only increased my anticipation for the weekend. So of course the week seemed to drag on far too long.

Saturday dawned in Forks’ typical gray fashion. The sunlight strained to reach the small town through a layer of clouds. But for the first time in a while, the clouds that sailed across the sky were delicate and thin. It looked as if Edward’s promise of good weather was on track to becoming true.

Apart from his promise of answering a few of my own questions about himself and his family, I kept his plans for a hike in mind as I readied for the day. Thankfully, my wardrobe was nothing if not backwoods friendly. Old jeans and t-shirts were the norm, with one of my longer flannels to protect my arms from any stray branches. It also concealed both my gun and the machete. The last item was the scarf Alice had loaned me slipped into my pocket. My neck was better, good enough that I could give it to Edward to return to her.

After I was dressed, hair pulled into another simple ponytail and nothing but a light layer of eyeliner for makeup, I texted Edward to ask where we should meet. Thankfully, Edward responded within moments, asking me to give him an hour.

I passed the first half hour of that wait with breakfast. Afterwards, apart from homework, the only thing to pass the time was the television downstairs. I figured I had the rest of the weekend to do the former. Both my brothers were up and already watching a movie by the time I met them in the living room. Not wanting to field any questions from Dean, I kept my phone in my pocket rather than checking the time every ten minutes like I wanted.

Several commercials in, I was waiting for my phone to vibrate when the doorbell rang.

Dean was the first to stand. Sam and I stayed in our respective seats. Dean pulled the door open, and after a short observation of the visitor concealed beyond the threshold from my own sights, offered a curious, “Yes?”

My pulse quickened at the unmistakable voice answering, “Hello. You must be Dean. I’m Edward Cullen.”

Dean’s shoulders picked up as his chest expanded. His profile went from polite curiosity to diamond-hard distrust. Head tilting down, Dean’s brows dropped to neanderthal levels.

“I’m here to pick up Sarah.”

“You are.” At Dean’s flat-toned reply, I fought to keep the fear now spreading through my chilling blood from showing.

I could hear the smile in Edward’s answer. “Yes. I promised to take her hiking today.”

“You did.”

Sam mouthed the word busted at me. My glare bounced right off his smug smile. But Sam wasn’t the brother I needed to worry about.

I rose out of the recliner, a vague notion of interjecting myself between the two before Dean could wonder overmuch at Edward’s pale complexion. I hadn’t even made it halfway across the room when Dean glanced my way. His sights were hard as emeralds and as clear to read. He was _not_ happy. “I haven’t heard anything about this.”

I was almost grateful for the presumption. Hackles rising, I latched onto my irritation like a lifeline from the swiftly rising sea of fear threatening to drown me. “I’m sorry,” I said, sounding anything but as I reached his side. “I didn’t know my every move was your business.”

With Edward standing at the threshold, Dean couldn’t fire back the words waiting behind his pinched mouth. He settled for an unamused side-eye.

“I’ll have her home before dinner,” Edward went on, still playing polite and dumb.

Dean folded his arms across his chest. “Which park?”

“Olympic.” In his button up shirt covered by a blue cardigan, Edward was the definition of clean-cut. Not that his appearance would sooth Dean’s obviously ruffled feathers. Edward looked better suited to star in the latest Abercrombie and Fitch ad than a hike through the woods.

“Pretty big, isn’t it?” Dean’s head tilted lower. He wasn’t wrong. The state park was huge—one of the largest in the country.

“Someone’s always hiking the trails,” Edward replied smoothly. “They’re popular year-round. Especially during the weekend.”

The unsaid promise of keeping to the public paths seemed to marginally placate Dean. Some of the tension leaked from his shoulders.

Even so, it was like trying to move a stubborn bull as I shoved against his arm. I’d probably have more luck with the bull. “See you later,” I said, managing to slip past his guardianship of the door.

Dean frowned but couldn’t exactly reach out and grab me. I hurried to Edward’s side at the top of the concrete steps then moved past. As I stepped down, I heard the scrape of Edward’s shoes as he turned to follow—after a polite, “Goodbye.”

“No later than seven!” Dean insisted behind us as we headed down the sidewalk for Edward’s Volvo. The silver car was parked behind the Impala.

I lifted a hand in acknowledgement, heart still pounding as if we were making some grand escape. If I got Edward out of this without sparking Dean’s suspicions, we would have.

It wasn’t until we were both in the car, now easing out of the drive and down the street—Dean still guarding the doorway—that I started to think we’d managed it. Maybe.

Edward waited until we rounded the corner to speed up. By the time we’d cleared Dean’s sights, my dread dissipated.

Anger was quick to take its place, burning away the chill in my blood. “I can’t believe you did that.”

Edward stared ahead as the Volvo sped out onto the main road.

His silence was like an accelerant. The heat running beneath my skin turned molten. “If you think your safe from Dean because he’s young, you’re wrong.” In most families, Sam would have been the prodigal son. Not ours. Dean had taken to hunting like a duck to water.

“If you won’t take your safety seriously, I will.” There wasn’t even the vaguest hint of an apologetic tone to his words, only certainty.

“But your safety isn’t important,” I shot back.

Edward finally glanced my way. The same surety in his words filled his gaze. “I’m not the one in danger today.”

“I can look after myself,” I insisted.

The skepticism on Edward’s face kept my temper burning bright enough to incinerate any words I might’ve shared during the drive as he raced down the interstate. Fuming in silence, I took to watching the landscape.

Winter had begun easing into Spring, but the trees around Forks stayed green no matter the season. They stretched towards the ever-thinning clouds as if they wished to scrape the sky. Beyond was only shadow and the promise of more woods.

Despite riding down a highway, this far from the coast and into the forests there wasn’t much in the way of traffic. The road was largely two-lane, and it was a testament to its isolation that Edward could keep up his insane hundred-and-ten miles an hour pace without having to slow for anyone else. He simply glided around the occasional car or semi-truck, never a worry about oncoming traffic.

His insane speeding cut down the time of the trip considerably. The sign for Olympic State Park appeared not long into the drive. The miles flew by. And then he passed the main entrance into the park.

I twisted as it passed before turning to speak to him for the first time since leaving the house. “I thought we were going to Olympic?”

I was a little worried as his eyes left the road to glance at me. “We are. But we aren’t using the public entrance.”

My brows pinched together, the first fission of concern leaking through my irritation. “So we’re not taking the public trails?”

Edward waited a moment before saying, “No.” He glanced away from the road to meet my sights as he said, “Technically, I never told your brother we were.” Recalling his words to Dean earlier, I realized he was right. He’d only said the trails were popular year-round, not that we’d be hiking them ourselves. Edward’s sights moved back to the road as he added, “I’ll have to be out of sight by the time the sky clears.”

I took in the gray clouds overhead. Already patches of sunlight were breaking through the sparse cloud cover, casting great beams of yellow sunshine in the distance. “Will you catch on fire?”

Edward smirked. “No.” That smirk fell a moment before he added, “You’ll see why for yourself soon enough.”

I quieted at that ominous bit of assurance. It was another fifteen minutes before Edward finally turned off the highway—onto a small road that looked as if the only vehicles to ever come down this way were the park ranger’s. The Volvo bounced over the many dips and cracks in the poorly maintained concrete. Edward didn’t seem overly concerned for the state of his struts, though he did slow to a mere sixty.

Finally we reached the end of the road. Literally. It cut off rather suddenly, without even much room to turn around. Edward pulled off to as much side as the heavily wooded area left him before rolling to a stop and cutting the engine.

He kept facing forward. “You can still change your mind,” he said quietly. “Take the car back to Forks.”

“You promised answers,” I reminded him. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the slightest bit worried. Edward kept talking about this trip as if it were a one-way ticket for me. But beyond the machete I carried, I had Edward’s weird protectiveness that usually only ticked me off to reassure me.

I pushed open the door and stepped out.

The woods were alive. The canopy rustled with every brush of wind. Beyond, I could hear the call of crickets deeper within the forest. The grass at the roadside grew long and wild, scraping up against my jean-clad knees as I stepped around the car.

Beyond the windshield, Edward’s brows pinched together, his mouth stiffening. Before I could identify the emotion behind his sudden tension, he exited the car. I struggled to keep my heartrate steady as he pulled the cardigan over his head and left it folded on the driver’s seat. His expression was once again clear by the time he joined me in his simpler button up shirt. “This way.”

There was no path. The undergrowth was thick with dead branches that cracked underfoot, crinkling needles, and hard-packed dirt. The ground was littered with exposed roots, pinecones, and stray rocks. I breathed in the thick undertone of loam and earth that lingered beneath the sharper, cleaner scent of evergreens. Moss wound around the imposing firs that grew unimpeded around us. The trees creaked as their tops swayed with the wind.

Edward stayed at my side the whole way, guiding our progress between the firs. His hand hovered near my side, and several times it twitched towards me whenever I stepped on a rock that tipped to the side or encountered a log too long to walk around that I’d have to climb over. But my footing was careful and certain despite the uneven, spongy forest floor. I didn’t need to be caught.

The light that managed to make it through the thick canopy glowed that ephemeral green. After the first twenty minutes of our trek, I noticed it was lightening. Sunshine slipped through in bright patches. Edward stepped around these.

We were more than an hour into the trek, and the sky had lightened to the point where Edward kept close to the massive trunks and their protective shade. He had to hold branches aside for me rather than walk the clearer areas where dappled sunlight danced across the forest floor.

Soon there were even fewer trees as the woods began to thin. Edward was having a harder time staying to the shadows. Ahead, I could make out a break in the woods. Some forty feet away was a curtain of bright light drenching the last of the trees in sunshine.

Edward’s pace had slowed. Keeping to his side, I felt my earlier concern overwhelm my sense. He’d been so insistent of the threat to me, I took his hesitance as a reluctance to expose me to danger. Now I wondered if some of it wasn’t born of his own fears. “Are you sure about this?”

It took a moment before Edward meet my gaze. Uncertainty lurked in his bright golden stare. “Yes.” His sights turned to the sundrenched trees ahead of us again. “You need to see.”

Worry and curiosity warred within me. Edward was clearly reluctant about doing this, and I didn’t think it was wholly for reasons of my safety. I didn’t like to see him so hesitant. And after a moment, I realized it was nerves I was seeing in the usually certain vampire.

Without thinking too much about it, I grabbed the hand that still lingered near me. The sudden cold was almost as surprising as the shocked glance from Edward. I almost let his hand go. Not because of the strange chill, but because now I was the uncertain one. Maybe he wouldn’t want to hold the warm hand of a human.

But after a long, considering stare, his fingers slowly curled around the underside of my hand. I allowed him to pull us along at his own pace.

However, as we reached the tree line, beyond which I could see slender slices of what looked to be a large natural clearing between the trees, Edward dropped my hand. He lingered by one of the last of the large firs, a tree so ancient it was wider than both of us standing side by side. He stayed in its dark shadow and nodded towards the clearing beyond.

A ring of ferns separated the forest from the meadow. They whispered against my jeans as I pressed my way through and emerged into the sun-drenched grasses.

The grass here was hip-high and seeded with all colors of wildflowers. White daisies and light purple checkerblooms swayed beside pink buds of pepper grass. Sagebrush rubbed up against a spattering of shrubs. Bees hovered above goldenrods and butterflies lazed atop larkspurs dripping blue bell-shaped blossoms.

I’d held my breath as I’d first emerged, but as I breathed, I inhaled the scent of flowers and clean air. I wandered further afield, hands outstretched to feel the tickle of the tallgrass. My fingertips drifted over the petals of a whole patch of wild daisies.

It took a moment to remember why I had wandered into this small bit of paradise. I looked around, seeking Edward, wanting to share the moment with him.

He was still standing in the shadow of the giant fir.

I paused and fully turned to face him. I’d wandered dozens of feet into the wildflowers. I paused, anticipation growing as I wondered what it was that kept him in the shadow.

Edward moved slowly. First, lifting his hands to his neck, unbuttoning his collar, followed by the first of several buttons. The action confused me, especially as he then turned to undo the buttons that kept his cuffs done and wound each sleeve up the sculpted muscles of his lower arms. As he lowered his hands to his sides, he shared a final look with me, and then began to walk forward.

Even as the first gleam of sunlight hit his skin, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. Not until he was fully drenched in the meadow’s warm golden light.

For a moment, as my brain struggled for a logical explanation, I thought maybe he’d covered himself in body glitter. But no. The prisms of light glinting of the pale skin were too multifaceted, to brilliant to be glitter. Not unless that glitter were made of millions of small diamonds embedded into his sparkling skin.

I’d often thought Edward was as perfect as a statue, but it was always cold, white marble I’d pictured. In the light of day, he was anything but cold. He almost looked on fire as the sunlight gleamed yellow and orange off the patches of exposed skin. I would catch a flash of red, or blue, or purple amid the whites and yellows.

I struggled to find something to say as he stood several feet from me, sparkling. It was clear why he and his family left when the clouds that perpetually hovered over Forks occasionally cleared. There was no way he would blend in with the rest of the human population. Not with his skin refracting the light into thousands of rainbows, as if he were made from diamond.

And here I’d thought he couldn’t look any more beautiful.

But it was clear he was uncomfortable. His chin was tucked low, his eyes drawn away off to the side. For the first time, I saw an awkwardness to his stance. It was still perfectly correct and tall, but not quite proud. More like stiff.

I realized I was gawking at him. I closed my mouth and forced my sights away from Edward’s sparkling skin to the wildflowers. They were suddenly much duller than they’d been a moment before. Burdened with the curse of being too ordinary.

I peeked up to the still glittering vampire. He hadn’t moved any closer, but his head was back up, his eyes focused on me.

I fully met his stare again.

“What are you thinking?” his voice was soft—but there was no mistaking the pleading in his question.

“That you look uncomfortable,” I answered honestly.

He stared for a moment before muttering, “I look nothing like a human, and you wonder at my comfort?”

“Well. I noticed that too,” I replied, feeling somewhat lame after the words were out. When he said nothing in response, I moved a few steps towards him, as if I were approaching an unfamiliar cat or dog. Trying not to spook him with any sudden movements.

He watched my approach with that same utter stillness that made me wonder if he were breathing. When I was nearly back to the edge of meadow, he held up a hand, a pained expression back on his face. I stopped.

“I need a moment,” he asked, sounding stressed.

“Alright.” I wondered if the sunlight wasn’t painful after all. “Is it the sun? Does it hurt?”

He looked surprised at the question. “No.” After a moment, he said, “Your hair’s up.”

“Yeah.” I guessed it was my turn to be confused.

He cast a bitter smile at me. “Normally your hair is covering your neck. And with the sunlight—I can see your arteries clearer.”

My eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Oh.” I swallowed. “I didn’t want it in the way during the hike.”

That bitterness in Edward’s smile seemed to spread to his whole being.

Making sure each movement was exaggerated, I slowly reached up and slid the tie holding my hair up free. My hair tumble back down, landing on my shoulders. Concealing my neck.

Edward’s nostril’s flared and the pained grimace was back before he smoothed it away. His smile did seem a bit easier as he nodded at me. “Just… give me a moment.”

“Okay.”

He walked around me and then further out into the meadow. His skin throwing refracted rainbows onto the tall grass and flowers around him as he went. He stopped in the center, sitting cross-legged onto the ground. He settled into that perfect, statuesque stillness.

Uncertain, I waited, watching the way he sparkled. How the plants around him glittered. Finally, after a bit of time passed, I approached with cautious, slow steps. It would have been sneaking up on anyone else, but I knew Edward would hear each footstep whisper through the grass. When I was nearer to him, I settled down and folded my legs beneath each other.

We were quiet. Edward doing nothing but sitting, still, but for the gradual rise and fall of his chest. His brow was furrowed, as if he were concentrating. I sat beside him, listening to the wind rustle the tall grass and the fir trees further off surrounding us. I watched Edward sparkle, entranced by the way the light shattered into a dozen different, shifting colors where it hit his skin.

After a time, Edward unlocked his legs and settled back into the grass, laying on his back. An arm supported his head. His brow more relaxed.

I continued to study him, wondering if the danger was really as great as he’d made it out to be. I hadn’t been sure what to expect before he’d stepped into the meadow—something grotesque, maybe. Something monstrous.

Edward was anything but.

I felt myself relax as I watched the light reflect off him. After a moment, I realized his lips were moving, and that he was speaking—albeit to fast and soft for me to make out what he was saying. “What was that?”

Edward’s strange litany stopped. At a more human volume he said, “Just singing to myself.”

“What?”

“Different songs I’ve heard throughout the years.”

His reply emboldened me. I leaned forward, anxious to learn more. I reached out towards his hand, watching the dancing colors and light reflect off my skin the closer I grew to his. Carefully I settled the tip of a finger against the back of his wrist.

Edward didn’t move. He didn’t speak, either, not in words or in his strange, light-speed singing.

I let the chill of his skin absorb into mine. It was so strange. Smooth, but there was no give beneath my finger. Not exactly hard as diamond. It was flesh, but firm. After a minute, when his skin had warmed to my temperature, I carefully traced over his wrist bones, up his third metacarpal, all the way to his knuckle. “Amazing,” I murmured

When I looked away from his hand, I saw his eyes were open again and watching my face. “I don’t frighten you?”

Fear was the last of the confusing jumble of emotions I felt towards Edward now. “No,” I replied. I traced to the next knuckle that connected his ring finger and followed the bones back to his wrist. “Is this alright?”

Edward’s answer was an immediate, “Yes.” After a moment, he added, “You can’t imagine how that feels.”

My cheeks warmed, but I didn’t pull away. I continued tracing the back of his hand, sketching nonsensical patterns into the glittering skin.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” Edward stared intently at me before slowly sitting up. His hand remained pressed against the ground, my finger free to stay. “Its still so strange, not knowing.”

“I’m just… enjoying the way your skin sparkles.” The heat in my face grew, beating out the heat of the sun.

“It doesn’t repulse you?” He wondered.

My eyes widened in surprise. “No.” I blinked as his earlier reluctance and nervousness began to make a sad sort of sense. “You thought it would?”

Edward’s sights shifted to where my finger laid against his hand. “It is the most obvious sign of my inhumanity.”

“That’s—true,” I acknowledged. At the sign of sadness that shadowed his eyes, I hurried to add, “But I think it’s beautiful.” My heart pounded with every word. It was difficult to hold his eyes. I had to look away. “Now I’m wondering what you’re thinking.” I tried keeping my tone light.

“I’m happy you’re not afraid of me,” he said softly.

His confession eased my embarrassment. I looked up, realizing how close his face was to mine. My heartbeat picked up as I stared at his beautiful face, now sparkling in the sunlight. The feel of his hand beneath mine as I allowed the rest of it to settle atop his. He studied me with the same intensity, as if I were the magical one. My lips parted slightly, face lifting towards his as I leaned forward.

His eyes darkened, and his free hand took hold of the back of my head. He leaned forward to meet me, his own lips parting.

His mouth kept opening, stretching impossibly wide. Shining white teeth gleaming with saliva angled towards my neck.

I moved. Faster than I thought possible.

But not as fast as Edward. I’d barely slashed out before he was just… gone.

I was still, sitting among the flowers with eyes wide open, breathing fast and hard. The machete seemed to hover in front of me, as if mine wasn’t the hand holding it up.

Some of the dried blood was gone, rubbed away.

Beyond the blade, Edward. All the way across the meadow, standing back in the shadow of the trees. One of his arms—the one that had held my head maybe—hung limply at his side. But it was still attached.

My eyes rounded. “Edward?” I asked, voice trembling.

From across the meadow, just loud enough to hear, “A moment. Please.”

Somehow, I managed to make my legs move. I unlocked them, forcing myself to stand. The machete fell to my side. “Are you okay?”

He kept his distance.

Was he hurt? Or just scared of me?

I thought of the moment he’d leaned in. My reaction—no conscious thought to it. I felt ill. The blade in my hand suddenly too heavy. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

After another moment that stretched on too long, Edward began to cross the space between us. I couldn’t help but notice how he held onto his other arm. For a second, a crazy second, I wondered if he was holding his arm in place. But the closer he came, the more I could see he was merely supporting it.

There was no blood. Just a deep slash in his shirt sleeve, about halfway through the arm, and the fabric hung limply apart. His exposed bicep sparkled in the sunlight. His eyes were sad, though, not wide and terrified.

He stopped several feet from me. I could just make out the faint line in his arm. Like a crack. It was bone deep.

I felt sick.

The machete dropped from my fingers. I moved forward, reaching in my pocket for the scarf Alice had gifted me before I’d hurt her brother.

I couldn’t meet his eyes as I wrapped the scarf around his arm, where the cut had sliced clean through his diamond flesh. The scarf covered the evidence of the harm I’d caused him, but I still felt ill. My head hung low as I stepped back.

I opened my mouth, intending to say another apology, when Edward beat me to it. “I am so sorry, Sarah.”

It startled me enough to look up and see the regret haunting his eyes.

We stood several feet apart, hunter and vampire, as the flowers danced around us.


	14. Meteors

Grasses and flowers swayed around us. A small gathering of butterflies hovered above a patch of tall purple cornflowers near Edward. The buzzing of other insects filled the silence that had fallen between us.

Edward stepped forward. “I’m better now.”

I couldn’t help but look to the red and black silk scarf tied around his bicep.

As if to prove his words, his other hand fell away. His injured arm continued to hang limply at his side.

I swallowed despite my dry mouth. “What happened?”

Edward’s lips quirked. “Would you understand if I told you I was only human?”

My mouth stayed fixed into its frown.

His sights slid away, focusing on something beyond me. From the faraway look in his eyes, beyond the meadow, too. “Everything about me draws you in.” There was a world of self-loathing in his words. “My face. My voice. My smell.” A darkness filled his gaze—and then he was gone.

I started at his sudden disappearance. Then a pale blur smeared across my vision. Once. Twice.

His reappearance in front of me shocked me back a step. His mouth twisted into a frown that mirrored mine. “Could you catch me?”

Suddenly he back across the meadow, beneath the cover of the trees lining the clearing. “Could you fight me!?” he shouted before ripping a branch the size of most trees from a spruce standing beside him. Shards of wood exploded like shrapnel but bounced harmlessly off his skin. My heart dropped like a dead weight into my stomach. He tested the weight and balance of the giant limb in his hand as if it were a pool cue he were thinking of using instead of hundred-plus pounds of wood. After a moment, he drew his good arm back. The spruce’s branch was so long it dragged along the ground. Despite that, Edward was poised like an Olympic javelin thrower.

His arm was a streak of white as he launched it forward. It flew like a missile across the clearing, the entire length of it. A hemlock tree standing on the opposite end was the makeshift rocket's apparent target. With a terrible crack that could have been mistaken for thunder, the spruce’s branch exploded against the trunk of the hemlock, breaking it clean in half. The tree groaned as its branches pulled it further apart down the middle.

By the time I twisted about, Edward was back before me. He stayed outside of arm’s reach, but as he’d just proven, that hardly mattered. His gold gaze burned. His brow pinched tight together. “Don’t apologize for defending yourself, Sarah. Not ever.”

I blew out a breath, sights drawn once more to the scarf tied around his arm. “I don’t need to be faster or stronger, Edward. I just need an opening.”

Edward’s shoulders fell. His angelic face became fraught with tension as he wondered in a hollowed voice, “Is there no hope?”

I couldn’t help but wonder the same. Was this doomed to end with one of us dead? As a hunter, wasn’t it my responsibility to make certain it was him?

The notion made it hard to think past the way my throat closed as my eyes and nose burned. Soon, the tears began to manifest. The meadow wavered in my vision as I struggled not to let a single one fall. Mortified, I scrubbed at my eyes to wipe the evidence of their existence away.

Edward’s expression turned pained. “I’m sorry.” He took a step towards me before stopping. “I swear, I’ll behave better.” His voice took on that silken quality as he added, “You surprised me before. But I’m ready now.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant by that but found myself desperate to believe him. “Surprised you?”

Brows pinched together, Edward eventually nodded. “When you leaned in, exposed your throat so close to me.” He grimaced, looking away as if embarrassed. “My instincts took over.” He looked back, eyes burning. “But I stopped in time.”

“Not before I hurt you,” I murmured.

Set within the sparkling, otherworldly beauty of his face, Edward’s smile was almost too brilliant to bear. “I’m glad you can.”

I stared, incredulous. “Glad?” Frustration welled within me.

Edward’s smile fell and a serious mien took over his expression. “Yes.” He moved a few steps forward towards me until he was within arm’s reach. With slow deliberation, he reached forward for my hand, pausing before taking it. He studied my face. Whatever he saw gave him the confidence to envelop my hand within his.

I looked down. His hand sparkled against my duller human one, the light reflecting off his skin danced over mine in hundreds of flitting colors.

“You see?” he murmured lowly, the smoothness of his voice causing a shiver to run down my spine. “Perfectly fine.”

A part of me whispered that the machete was several steps away. That I was allowing him too close without it. But I thought of the crack in that otherwise perfect diamond skin and the desire to look for the blade dissipated.

Maybe he was right. Maybe his otherworldly charms had drawn me in. Gazing at the sparkling hand holding my own, I wondered if this was the trap having closed in around me. I looked up, saw nothing but earnest adoration in his golden gaze.

Desperate to avoid the doubts that plagued me, I blurted, “Why are your eyes bright gold when they were darker a moment ago?”

Those eyes stared steadily into mine. “I fed last night and then again this morning. It’s why I couldn’t pick you up right away.” His lip curled into that self-deprecating smirk. “I wanted to be sure I wouldn’t be hungry.”

I thought of the darkening of his eyes as he leaned in. Their black, murderous glare that first day in Biology. “They change colors?”

He nodded. “The hungrier I am, the darker they become. The more… satiated on animal blood, the lighter.” He looked pensive. “Although satiated is hardly the word,” he mused. “Animal blood never quite takes away the cravings.”

“So, they turn gold after you feed.” I stared into them, wondering how many more impossible things there were to learn about him.

“As long as we feed on animals,” Edward clarified.

My brows lowered into a deep v. “What do you mean?”

“Vampires that drink human blood have red eyes.”

_Eyes as red as the blood they consumed._

If that was true, then Edward couldn’t be responsible for the deaths. My shoulders relaxed, breathing became easy again. The scent of field and Edward filled my head. I could have blamed their potent combination for the way everything seemed to lighten—but that would be a lie. I hadn’t wanted the killer to be Edward. Having proof that he wasn’t—it was as if a weight had fallen away.

But if not Edward or his family, then someone else.

“Edward.” The seriousness of my tone had him focusing on me with even more intensity than he usually gave, which I wouldn’t have thought possible. “Waylon Forge. That was no animal, was it?”

Edward frowned, saying nothing.

“There are more of your kind out there. Other vampires.”

“Sarah,” he said, soft and sad. “Leave it be.”

Slow and careful, I extracted my hand from his. He did nothing to stop me, just watched with the same sorrowful expression. “I can’t, Edward. They’ve killed two people.”

His gaze fell to the ground and stayed there for a moment before he lifted his sights back to me. He shook his head and sounded exasperated as he said, “You’ll try to hunt them no matter what I say, won’t you?”

Raising my head, I nodded.

“I don’t know who they are,” he said, words careful, as if he were weighing each one. “Nomads, most likely.”

“Nomads?”

“Vampires that are on the move, constantly. They don’t settle. They roam.”

“Do they know about you and your family?”

Edward frowned. A thoughtful crease appeared in his brow before he shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. They wouldn’t have killed anyone in our territory if they did. Not unless they wanted to provoke a fight.” He shrugged his good shoulder. “Alice would have seen that.” His gaze was steady as it met mine. “They’ve most likely already moved on.”

I grit my teeth. Chin jutting, I managed a tight, “You aren’t just saying that to throw me off their trail?”

“No.” Edward’s lips pressed together into an unhappy line. “If I’m wrong, we’ll know soon enough.”

“When someone else dies,” I realized, hands curling into fists.

Gaze solemn, Edward nodded. He reached out again, taking my hand. I held my breath at the feel of his cool skin surrounding mine. “Swear to me you won’t confront them alone. That you’ll take me with you.” His stare begged me to listen. “Please, Sarah.”

The arm of the hand not holding mine still hung limply at his side. “Haven’t I proven I can take care of myself?”

Edward sighed. “Do hunters always confront more than one monster on their own?”

I winced. It was a fair point.

“Besides, you said you would take me hunting with you,” he reminded me.

Scowling I attempted to pull my hand free from his. He wouldn’t let go. “Fine,” I huffed.

Edward’s answering smile was brilliant. “Thank you,” he said, a hint of amusement lurking in his voice.

I closed my eyes against his handsome, sparkling face, struggling to reorient myself. It wasn’t easy.

When I opened them again, Edward was watching me with an adoring gaze. My cheeks heated under the intensity of his stare. “So you don’t burst into flames in the sunlight.”

Amusement gleamed in his eyes and smile. “No.” He lifted my hand slightly. “I can eat garlic and I’ve found solace in churches. I can cross running streams. A wooden stake would do nothing.” He smirked. “No coffins, either.”

I worked to keep my tone light and teasing. “How about turning into a bat?”

Shaking his head, he laughed. It sounded as musical as everything else about his voice. It made him seem much lighter and freer than he’d been throughout most of the day. As if he’d lost some great weight off his shoulders, too. “No.”

“You’re letting me down here, Edward.” I put on a playful pout. “No castles or capes. No funny accent. You sure you’re really a vampire?”

A flash of Edward’s perfect teeth set my heartrate climbing. “You're supposed to be bigger than Emmet and lack a sense of humor. So who’s really letting who down, hm?”

I startled. I hadn’t really thought of how vampires would see hunters. “The big, bad tough guy thing I get. But why no sense of humor?”

He shrugged. “Hunters don’t really do a lot of talking. They shoot first, ask questions never.”

I huffed a laugh, using my free hand to push some hair behind my ear. “I have questions.”

Edward’s smile turned wry. “I did say it would be your turn.” He began sitting again, still holding my hand.

I lowered myself beside him. As I settled, I asked, “Isn’t this how we got in trouble last time?”

Edward studied me. “My control is better now.” His hand let go of my own, but before I could feel the absence of its loss, I stilled as it came towards my neck. Edward watched my face carefully before inching it forward. His hand didn’t stop at my throat, it went lower. Resting across my collarbones, a thumb up against the now frantic pulse in my neck.

The hand was a light weight pressing my t-shirt to my skin. The slightly cooler skin of his thumb barely touched my pulse point. He smiled. “You see?”

This was a hand that had ripped a huge limb of a tree and split a tree in half. But the shiver that went through me wasn’t wholly due to fear.

Letting him this close was stupid. But his eyes remained a light gold, a surety to them that hadn’t been there before. I felt my heart pounding, my pulse had to be easy to for him to feel and see. “Is it hard?”

One sculpted bronze brow rose in question.

“Being this close.”

Edward gifted me another stunning smile. “Having you near—it’s heavenly. What’s a little burning beside all this happiness?” His lips twisted into a wry grin. “Maybe I’m becoming masochistic.”

His words had me flushing again. “What do you mean by burning?”

“The thirst is like fire. Our throats burn when we’re hungry.” Edward’s thumb began to move, gliding up and down. My skin tingled where he touched. “It’s hard to endure when you’re new.”

“When were you new, Edward?”

“In nineteen-eighteen,” he said, tone soft and quiet.

If he was a teenager when he was turned, that made him over a hundred.

As I tried to reconcile the fact with the young face before me, Edward went on. “My family came down with the Spanish Influenza. I was dying. My mother must have realized what Carlisle was. She begged him to help me before she died. Carlisle honored her wish.”

His eyes took on that distant look. “Carlisle kept me isolated my first year, away from humans. It would be an impossible temptation otherwise. It wasn’t until the following December that he began to take walks with me. At first only at night. Gradually I acclimated to larger groups for lengthier periods of time.”

“Was this when you—killed?”

Edward shook his head. “No. That was after. We had met with another group of vampires as we hunted one night. Old friends of Carlisle’s. One thought it was a shame Carlisle had kept human blood from me, that I was missing the greatest joy of a vampire’s life.” His brows fell together. “Some years later I left Carlisle and Esme, his wife, to discover what I was missing.”

The part of me whose heart fluttered beneath the pad of his thumb didn’t want to know anymore. But if I’ve learned one thing in this life, it’s that bad things don’t go away just because you close your eyes and hide under the covers. You’ve got to face them head-on. “Was the vampire right?”

Edward sighed. “Human blood—its unlike anything else. It filled me up in a way animal blood never can. I felt totally alive for the first time I could remember.” My stomach twisted with each word, until it was a painful, heavy knot at the end. “But even if my… victims… were their own variety of monsters, the guilt haunted me. Letting down Carlisle. Taking life. I’d become something I didn’t want to be.” His lips twisted. “In the end, I decided I’d rather my cravings go unsatisfied then give my conscience any more reason to plague me.”

“And you haven’t killed since?” I willed it to be true.

He stared directly into my eyes. “Nothing human.”

Another long breath left me. He could have been lying, but for now, his bright golden eyes backed up his claim. I decided to believe the evidence in front of me.

I was trapped, fully and completely. But it was a beautiful trap, filling me with a kind of happiness I’d never known. It was like the sun filled me, making all the dark things that lurked in the back of my mind scurry away until it was as if they’d never been there in the first place. I was bright and warm, wallowing in joy. I would have been content except for the relentless desire touch him. Being this close was both blissful and hard.

Maybe he wasn’t the only masochist.

Eyes fluttering shut, he let out a breath and—to my surprise—lowered himself until he was laying on the ground, head resting on my thigh. The hand on my neck fell away to rest across his chest instead. My heart was pounding, my body tingling. I had to touch more of him. I settled for laying a hand on his hair. The strands were soft and slid between my fingers like silk. As I combed through his bronze locks, my other hand gripped the grass besides me. I didn’t want to push things—push him—too far. “Is this alright?”

“Perfect,” he murmured.

The sun inside me brightened. I had no idea making someone else content could bring this much pleasure. It was as if my entire world was shifting on its axis, rearranging itself. How long since coming to Forks had I been circling Edward already? Fighting that steady pull into his gravity? I wasn’t sure I could hold back any longer.

I didn’t want to.

So I basked in the moment. Head bowed, hair curtaining my face, watching Edward sparkle as he laid in my lap with his eyes closed. I couldn’t remember ever being so content, and all I was doing was watching him sleep.

Or so I thought. “Tell me what you’re thinking?” he asked.

I felt the truth leap to my tongue. “That I’ve never felt anything like this.”

Edward’s eyes opened. “Neither have I.”

That my confession was answered with his own, that we were sharing this moment in tune with one another, somehow heightened my joy. The elation almost felt like too much to hold, like my humming nerves might spark and overheat from it.

“I was wondering if this was how humans felt most of the time,” Edward mused, eyes curving with his bright smile.

“I don’t see how anyone would ever get anything done if that were true,” I said back.

Edward laughed. The joy within me soared even higher. Apparently, there were still greater heights it could reach.

I remembered it was my turn, and so I asked him about all the seemingly inconsequential things that make up a person. Their tastes. Their opinions. Their memories. And then there was the fact he was a vampire who had lived over a century. He had seen so much I didn’t know where to start.

Edward patiently answered every question I had. Slowly, a few of the blanks filled in. His parents had been well off, giving Edward a private education as a boy. He’d excelled at music and loved it to this day. Not just the classics, either.

“I’ve seen Metallica in concert,” he revealed. “Nineteen-eighty-three at the Metro.”

I playfully pursed my lips in disgust. Even though it was hard not to smile at the thought of prim Edward wading into a crowd of heavy metal fans. “I guess no one’s perfect.”

Edward grinned.

He told me mostly of his life as a vampire, as he didn’t have many memories of being a human. I had a feeling he edited his darker days, skipping over the details of his kills in favor of reminiscing about the cities. Chicago. New York. Paris. Milan. Buenos Ares. Rome. He just kept listing off all sorts of fabulous destinations that even I, well-traveled that I was, could only dream of.

Too soon, the sun began to dip towards the distant treetops. The day had passed in a blur, and yet, I couldn’t imagine ever forgetting a single moment. Edward sat up, almost as soon as I’d realized the time was getting late, as if he were suddenly able to read my mind. Maybe we were that in sync with each other already. “Your brother wanted you home by seven.”

“Now you care about what Dean thinks?” I scoffed, already missing the weight of his head in my lap. I stood and had to stomp some of the stiffness out of my legs. I’d sat with him for hours.

He dazzled me with a lopsided smile. “I want to make a good impression.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Even if Edward weren’t a vampire, Dean was a terrible hypocrite when it came to dating. While he loved to date—so long as it wasn’t too serious—he hated seeing me with anyone. I think he put his own cavalier attitudes towards the girls he was with into the heads of every guy who even glanced my way. And Dean had always been way overprotective of Sammy and me.

Edward shrugged with his good arm. “Regardless.” His smile softened. “It’s the proper thing to do.”

I eyed him. “We aren’t in the nineteen-hundreds, Edward,” I reminded him.

His smile lifted into that amused grin that showed off his teeth. “I know. But I want to be respectful.” His grin quirked to the side again. “I guess I’m old fashioned.”

I huffed out an amused breath, trying very hard not to feel charmed by him and utterly failing. “Whatever makes you happy.”

His eyes took on that joyous glow. “Speaking of which, I want to share something with you.” Curious, I watched as he took a few steps and bent over. When he came back up, the machete I dropped earlier was in his hand.

When I wasn’t horrified or filled with fear, the sensible side of me that seemed to be shrinking with every passing day wondered if I was really so far gone down the rabbit hole. A vampire had just taken up the only weapon I had against him. But my senseless faith was rewarded a moment later when Edward extended the blade out to me, handle first.

I took it, staying extra careful to keep from accidentally nicking his hand. I slid it back into the sheath strapped across my shoulders.

“This is how I get around,” he said, grinning. He turned and held his hands out. “Get on.”

“What?” I stared, wondering if he wanted me to do what I thought he wanted me to do.

He looked over his shoulder. “It will be quicker my way.”

“You want to give me a piggyback ride,” I clarified, bemused.

Edward nodded.

“You realize how close we’ll be.”

He smiled. “It’s alright. I promise.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I walked up to him and slung my arms around his neck before hopping up. He caught my thighs with his hands. I still wrapped my legs around his waist, uncertain what he was going to do. “What now?”

“Now we run.” He let go of my leg long enough to lift a hand off his shoulders, lifting my palm to his face. I could feel the great lungful of breath he drew as his shoulders rose and back expanded beneath me. “Easier all the time,” he murmured, placing my hand back into place.

He took off. We were in the forest before I could even process that we were moving. The trees were dark shapes blurring to either side. There was no sound but the whistling of the wind as Edward raced around the trees, not even the sound of my pulse as my heart pounded in my chest. I felt as if I were on the downward slope of a roller coaster, plummeting. If it weren’t for Edward’s hold, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hold on.

When he finally stopped, I was still clinging to him, breathing heavily. It had taken minutes to cover what had been hours, earlier.

When I didn’t immediately jump down, his voice was uncertain as he asked, “Sarah?”

I swallowed, forcing my hands and legs to move. I nearly toppled off before I remembered to make my legs go first. They trembled slightly as they hit the ground, followed by the rest of me.

Edward turned, and looked surprised. He reached out, steadying me by the shoulders. “Are you alright?”

“Um,” I croaked. “Give me a second.”

Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “You look white as a ghost.”

“Ghosts aren’t white,” I said, unthinkingly.

“White as me, then,” he said, the amusement now in his voice.

I groaned and took a careful step for the Volvo, leaning against its silver frame. “I don’t know if I should have closed my eyes or not.”

“Try it next time,” he advised.

Next time! I struggled to contain my horror at the thought. “I think I’ll just walk, thanks,” I muttered.

Edward laughed. That laughter tapered off as he moved next to me, studying my face. “I thought about something as I was running.”

Hoping he wasn’t about to suggest running me all the way back to Forks, I met his roaming gaze with trepidation. “What?”

“This,” he murmured.

His hands cupped either side of my face, so gently there was barely any pressure. I stilled, eyes widening in surprise as he continued to stare at me. I realized he was testing his resolve and felt myself tense up in response.

A tension that was gone as soon as he leaned forward and pressed his cool lips to mine.

If there was any doubt before that Edward’s gravity had yet to capture me and pull me in, this dispelled it. I was falling so fast I felt like a meteor burning across the sky as I plummeted into him. My breath quickened and my heartrate jumped. I slung my arms around his neck and kissed him back with everything I could muster.

Edward stilled, becoming a statue once more. His hands gently but inexorably moved my face back, away from him. His eyes were wild, but he otherwise didn’t look ready to lunge. I tried unwinding my arms to move back, but his hands kept me near. “Wait for a moment, please,” he asked, voice overly polite.

I did what he asked, trying to calm my racing heart as I watched him. “Are you okay?”

The excitement in his eyes slowly faded to something fond and warm. “Yes.” His lips crooked upwards. “I’m stronger than I thought.”

“Good to know,” I said, flushing. “Because I’ve got no self-control at all, apparently.”

His grin turned impish. “You’re only human.”

I shot him a half-hearted glare. “Watch it.”

He laughed, the joyous sound echoing through the trees. I brightened again, and while I was still a little breathless from the run and the kiss, felt a hundred times better than I could ever remember feeling before.

Edward held the door open for me. He wore a self-satisfied smirk as he helped keep me steady while I slipped inside. Once he was back in the driver’s seat, I turned towards him as far as my seat would allow, drinking in his now more-human features as the sun had sunk beneath the trees. I missed the way he had sparkled earlier, but at the same time felt more grounded looking at his more familiar façade. Like this was more real than it had seemed in the meadow.

When he reached for my hand with his, he used the arm I had injured, proving it was already healing. We held on to each other the whole way back to Forks.


	15. Stories

All too soon I was back at the little white house on F street. I noticed the shrubs needed to be trimmed, and since I had promised to do all of Sammy’s chores, that left the job up to me. I hoped Edward wouldn’t think we were messy for letting them go so long. Lawn care just wasn’t something we usually had to deal with.

But I needn’t have worried. Edward’s attention was fixed wholly on me. As the car’s engine settled with various soft clicks, we stared at each other, hands still entwined. It wasn’t quite night, but the flush of evening painted the sky. Bands of pink, oranges, and yellows blended into light blue and deeper indigo. It was clear enough that the stars would shine soon enough.

It was hard to enjoy the sunset with Edward next to me, his gaze as admiring as it had been in the meadow. I had the wild impulse to lean across the short distance between us and kiss him. Of course, I couldn’t. It would be too dangerous to surprise him. And I didn’t seem to have the same iron restraint that he had to keep my kisses chaste.

Our mutual adoration was put to an end when the porch light flicked on and the screen door creaked open. We both turned to see Dean in the doorway as if he’d never left.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Sorry about Dean.” Sometimes it felt as if I did a lot of apologizing on Dean’s behalf. “He’s—”

“Looking out for you,” Edward finished. He didn’t sound bothered by it at all.

Lips pressed together, I fixed him with an unamused look. “I’m seventeen. I don’t need a chaperone.”

“It’s me he doesn’t trust. Not you.”

My brows cinched together. “You can read his mind?”

Edward’s mouth quirked to the side. “No, but I don’t need to.”

“You can’t read any of our minds?” That couldn’t be normal. Considering he could read everyone else’s.

Edward shook his head.

“I wonder why.”

His brows dipped slightly as he looked off to the side. “Unfortunately, I’m no closer to an answer. Carlisle doesn’t know, either. As far as I’m aware, you and your brothers are the only minds I haven’t been able to read.” His hand slipped out of my hold. “You should go in before he grinds his teeth to stumps.”

“Would serve him right.” I gave Edward a last lingering look, basking in the joy and contentment just being with him gave me. The way his presence captured my awareness, heightened my senses as they fixed on him. I already dreaded the dimmer reality that awaited me when we were apart.

But he was right. I didn’t want Dean to have a bad impression of Edward. It was harder than I’d thought to turn away and open the door. To get out of the car.

The air outside was free of Edward’s scent. I already missed it. Nevertheless, I shut the door and walked away, careful not to look back. I kept my sights on Dean, instead. His folded arms and tense shoulders warned me he was still in a mood.

Behind me, the Volvo came to life with a quiet purr. It rolled down the driveway and pulled out into the street. Dean’s sights followed as it sped away.

The car must have turned the corner because his eyes snapped back to me. “You okay?”

My returning look was exasperated. “Y’know, most people would ask if I had a nice time.”

“Fine. You have a nice time?” He asked with exaggerated politeness.

I threw it right back at him. “Yes, Dean. I did.”

By then I’d reached the top step. Dean was still blocking the doorway. We stood and stared for a moment. Finally, Dean’s shoulders slumped, and his arms dropped to his sides. “I thought you didn’t date.”

“I changed my mind,” I answered.

Dean shook his head. “This is a bad idea, Sarah.”

“You go out on dates all the time.”

“I don’t get attached.”

I pushed past him. Dean shifted to the side, allowing me by. The door creaked as he shut it.

Dean grabbed the canister of salt on a nearby shelf, one intended to hold letters. He fixed the white line scattered across the wooden floorboards. “Remember that one kid? Jerry?”

“Harry,” I corrected. We’d stayed in Elwood for nearly a month while Dad tracked down a wraith. I’d been a freshman when I’d met Harry Dodgeson in English. The son of a struggling single mom who wasn’t around too often, we’d hit it off immediately. Dark hair with light blue eyes, he was cute with a great sense of humor. He’d been my first kiss.

“Whatever.” He straightened up, putting the salt back into place. “How long did that last after we left Indiana? Two weeks?”

“A month,” I muttered. Eventually, he’d stopped calling me back. I had to leave a message breaking up with him since I couldn’t get ahold of him.

Dean crossed the room in a series of creaking boards. He settled onto the sofa, forearms propped against his knees, and stared up at me. “This life ain’t made for romance.”

“I know that,” I shot back.

“Do you?” Dean’s stare was incisive. “Because if that’s what you want, better forget all about hunting.”

“Drop it, Dean.” I tugged off my jacket rougher than necessary before hanging it in the closet.

“You’re setting yourself up to get hurt,” he warned.

He was right, and it made me mad. “It’s none of your business,” I snapped, shutting the closet door harder than necessary. A few of the pictures along the wall rattled.

Dean narrowed his eyes. “What’s this kid’s deal, anyway?”

The fact he was referring to a century-old vampire as a kid amused me enough to smooth the sharper edges of my raised hackles. I folded my arms, shrugging. “He’s my lab partner in bio.”

“He’s the one who drove you home from Port Angeles,” Dean went on. “The son of the town Doc, right?”

Given Dean had probably seen Waylon’s body for himself, before the ghoul had emptied it out, he likely already knew the story going round was a ruse. The story Edward’s father had given. But I couldn’t exactly lie. “That’s right.”

Dean hummed, head tilting minutely as his lips twisted upwards. “Movin’ on up.”

I glared. “I’m not dating him because his family is rich, Dean.”

Dean arched a brow. “No. You’re dating him because he’s got a pretty face.” He picked up the remote. “Just remember those kinds of guys are entitled douchebags.”

“You’re such an ass. You don’t know anything about him,” I shot back.

Dean’s attention flickered from the television back to me. “I know the type.”

Shaking my head, I held up a hand. There was no convincing Dean of anything once he had his mind made up. “Whatever,” I muttered. Besides, if he thought Edward was just some yuppie son of a doctor, all the better. “Did you get anything for dinner?”

“Wasn’t your boyfriend supposed to buy you some?” Dean answered as he settled back onto the couch, still channel surfing.

Ignoring him, I strode into the kitchen and made for the peanut butter and bread. A sandwich and glass of milk later, I was still wound up from everything that had happened. Since I didn’t want Dean to have a chance to give me any more crap, I started up the stairs. After a detour to the bathroom, I was back in my room.

I opened the door and startled at the sight of Edward sitting on the bed, waiting. Hurrying, I closed the door behind me and, in a low whisper, asked, “What are you doing here?!”

His voice was soft as he replied, “Do you want me to leave?”

I didn’t. But what I wanted and what was best were two different things. “I don’t want you to get caught.”

He graced me with another of his glorious smiles. “I won’t.” Impish expression overtaking his face, Edward tapped an ear.

Super hearing. Right. My heart hadn’t settled from the surprise of seeing him in my room. It didn’t help when he reached for my hand again. I sat down beside him, closer than I would anyone else, till we were nearly touching. “Haven’t you had enough of me?”

“Never,” he pledged, free hand sweeping a lock of hair behind my ear.

A near irresistible urge to melt into him came over me. Winchester stubbornness kept me from turning into a fawning mess, but it was a near thing. “Smooth move, Mister Cullen.”

His smirk kept my heart racing. “They’re definitely coming back.” For a moment I thought he meant my brothers. But when I twisted to look at the door, he smiled and breathed a laugh. A tug of his hand brought me back around. “My human instincts,” he explained.

“Did you date a lot?”

Edward’s brows shot up and he leaned a bit to the side. “No, actually.”

Now it was my turn to look surprised. “You didn’t date a lot or… at all?”

“I hadn’t met anyone I was interested in courting,” he replied, very formally. His eyes narrowed, as if he were struggling to see something far away. “I was schooled at home so my interactions with other children were few and far between.”

I tried to envision a younger Edward spending all his time at home, only his teacher to keep him company. “Sounds lonely.”

His sights relaxed, falling back on me. “Occasionally there’d be someone at a dinner party or at the park. I don’t mean to make it sound as if I had no friends, but they were mostly boys.” He tilted his head. “How about you?”

I answered with a breezy grin. “Depends on your definition of friend, I suppose.” One of his brows lifted prompting me to say, “I’ve known loads of people. I suppose you could say I make friends easily. People to sit beside at lunch. But that’s about it.” My grin withered a bit as I admitted, “I don’t remember much about them after a few months. Not even their names.” It sounded horrible when I said it like that, but they’d say the same about me.

Edward’s gaze drifted down to our hands. “But you’ve dated.”

“A few times,” I agreed. The corners of his mouth felt into a slight frown. Seeing it, I had the sudden need to reassure him. “Never anything serious.”

His stare lifted to meet mine. “And this?” he asked, lightly squeezing my hand.

I faltered, unable to meet his eyes any longer. “More serious than it should be,” I admitted. Because where would this ultimately lead? Nowhere but heartache. If not because of what he was, then because of who I was.

Edward lifted my chin. “You are my world now.”

It was a pretty declaration but, “What does that mean?”

“It means I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and happy,” he swore. His voice softened as he added, “So long as you want me, I’ll be here.”

It was as if he’d seen straight into the most secret wish of my heart. The one I’d come to terms with never fulfilling. Not so long as I stayed with my family. But I’d long since chosen them over some nebulous dream.

But, unbelievably, here was the dream made real. Someone who wanted to stay. Someone who I wanted to stay with.

I tried to think of something to say. Whether it was another reminder of how different we were, or how my father or brother would literally kill him. How this was impossible. Or maybe pledge the same, damn the rest of it.

“I wish—”

Edward leaned forward, pressing his forehead to mine. “I swear it.”

His whisper brushed my lips. I closed my eyes and nodded.

We sat quietly for a time, I breathed in his scent as he sat still beside me. Eventually my heart began to calm. Finally, I leaned back and sighed. “How long are you staying?”

His own eyes opened. “As long as you’ll let me.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant. “You’re sleeping over?” The thought was enough to make my cheeks heat up again.

His lopsided smile made another appearance. “I don’t sleep.”

His statement had the air of confession about it. I blinked, surprised. “Ever?”

He shook his head.

“Huh.” I wasn’t sure if a life without sleep sounded good or bad. More time to get things done, but no dreams. No feeling of restfulness in the morning after a sound night’s sleep. “What do you do all night.”

His voice took on a careful note. “Listen to music. Read. Hunt. Whatever passes the time.”

“And you want me to stay up with you?”

“No. I want you to rest.” He shrugged. “I’ll keep watch over you.”

My brows rose. “Just—watch me sleep?”

He nodded.

“Sounds boring.”

He gave another closed-lipped grin. “I’m fully enthralled.”

I lifted a skeptical eyebrow but shrugged. “If you say so.” I was still wearing my flannel, jeans, and holsters. “I need a minute to change.”

Edward smiled and, after a moment, leaned forward to press his lips to my forehead. Before I could wholly process the sensation of his cool lips pressed against my warmer skin, he was gone. The curtain shifted slightly from the window I now noticed was open.

Lightened by the phantom feel of his lips on my brow, I went to the window and peeked out but saw no sign of Edward. Cautious, I closed the curtains before opening the door to my closet.

Now that I would have a boy overnight, a restless thrill shot through me. Digging through my duffle, I regretted the pair of simple cotton shorts and one of Dean’s old, torn AC/DC t-shirts that was the sum total of my nightwear. Though I wasn’t sure what I’d replace it with. One of those nicer slips, maybe. With the curtain closed, I stepped behind the open door and quickly unbuckled the gun harness and holster before changing clothes.

Padding barefoot across the floor, I slid my gun in its customary spot and placed my machete on the nearby end table. “Edward?”

He was at the window barely a moment later, quietly easing inside. As soon as he was standing on the floor, I picked up the salt canister and fixed the line before sliding the window shut.

Finished, I turned to find Edward sitting on the edge of the mattress. I sat down beside him. “You don’t have to stay, you know.”

“I want to.” His hand covered mine.

I glanced at our hands, admiring the way his fit over mine, before looking back up. “I’m too keyed up to sleep right now.”

“What do you want to do?” he asked.

Thinking of our kiss by the car, the fire returned to my cheeks, brighter than before. He must have seen my blush despite the lights being off because the corners of his mouth turned up. I swallowed and said, “We could talk.”

“About?” Edward asked, polite as could be.

I cast about for a topic. “Your family?”

And so Edward spoke in a low murmur of his extraordinary family. He spoke first of Carlisle, the son of a preacher who had spent centuries alone before turning Edward. Of his mother, Esme, who Carlisle found after a failed attempt to take her own life, whom he loved completely from the moment he first saw her. Then Rosalie, the beauty who’d been brutalized and left for dead when Carlisle came upon her.

When I heard Carlisle had hoped she’d be to Edward what Esme had been for him, resentment flared. I thought of her cover model face and body. How was I supposed to compete with that? “How’d she end up with Emmett?” I asked instead.

“She found him in the middle of a woods. He’d stumbled on a grizzly in a temper. It didn’t end well for him.”

“So Rosalie changed him.”

“No.” Edward frowned. “It’s—extraordinarily hard to do. She picked him up, ran the entire way back to our house, and begged Carlisle to turn him.”

“Why not do it herself? What’s so difficult?”

Edward’s frown deepened. “It takes a bite to transfer our venom. But once the blood flows—it’s like a frenzy comes over you.” Edward moved his hand, placing it on his thigh as he stared off towards the window. “I can’t imagine having the strength to stop. Very few vampires are capable of it.”

“And Carlisle is?”

“He’s able to work with blood and show no signs of hunger,” Edward reminded me. “Carlisle’s gift is his compassion. It’s enabled him to triumph over many of a vampire’s baser instincts.” Edward smiled softly. “He’s the very best of us.”

I sat and digested what he’d told me for several minutes. As I did, Edward’s gaze eventually found its way back to me, though his hand didn’t return with his attention. “So Rosalie fell in love with Emmett and left you?”

Edward’s brow climbed. “Rosalie and I were never together.” My surprise must have shown because his crooked smile made its reappearance. “Rosalie is—very focused on herself. I tired quickly of her thoughts.”

“I guess it’s a good thing you can’t hear mine,” I said, half-joking.

Edward’s gaze pierced mine. “I don’t believe your thoughts would sound anything remotely like Rosalie’s. You’re much too selfless.”

“You can’t know that,” I pointed out.

“You worry about other people before worrying about yourself,” Edward said. “You’re so concerned for the wellbeing of others you’re willing to risk your life to protect them.”

I feigned a nonchalant shrug. “Or maybe I’m just a thrill seeker.”

“I wish that were true. There are far easier, less dangerous, thrills,” Edward remarked dryly.

Not wanting to wonder how much of Edward’s attraction to me was because he couldn’t hear my thoughts, I decided to change the subject. “What about Alice and Jasper?”

Edward’s lips pursed in thought before he said, “Alice is something of a mystery. She woke up alone, changed, with no memory of her human life.”

My eyes widened. “Nothing?”

Edward shook his head. “If not for her talent she likely would have turned savage. Instead, she saw her future family, and set out to find us. She came upon Jasper first. Together they appeared to Carlisle, Esme, and Rosalie one day while Emmett and I were away.” A soft smile rose to Edward’s face as he recalled, “When we returned, I read Alice’s mind a moment before she hugged me and called me brother.”

Thinking of Missouri, I replied, “Psychics do have a way of making it seem like they know all about you.”

Edward nodded.

“What about Jasper?”

“Jasper—is the newest of us to forgo human blood. He still has difficulties at times, but he’s adjusting.”

I waited for more, but nothing came. “Did Alice change him?”

“No. He was already a vampire.” Edward finally took my hand again. “Forgive me, but it’s Jasper’s story to tell.”

I wondered why he was more reticent to reveal more of Jasper’s past, but after the excitement of the day, I was growing tired. “Do you mind if I lay down?”

“Of course not,” Edward replied, looking surprised I asked.

After I pulled the blanket down and slid my legs under the cover, I looked up at Edward, still sitting beside me. “You’re really going to stay the night?”

Edward’s gaze softened. “I told you, as long as you’ll have me at your side, it’s where I intend to be.”

I sighed and rolled onto the side facing him, staring down at our entwined hands. “Tell me more.”

Edward thought for a moment before starting in on a recent story of hunting with his brothers. He had just gotten to the part where Emmett had cornered a bear fresh from hibernation when my eyelids fluttered shut. His soft, lilting words guided me to sleep better than any lullaby.


	16. Meetings

My eyes jolted open to find Edward’s face inches from my own. I opened my mouth, but his finger rose to hover over his. “Your father’s downstairs.”

“What?” I whispered back. But as I listened, I could hear the muffled murmur of male voices, one deeper and broader than the rest. Edward and I shared wide-eyed looks before I flung my blanket off and stood. “Stay here.”

He nodded. I hurried across the room and through my bedroom door, careful to close it behind me. The hall light was off, so I navigated the way to the stairs in darkness. Light spilled onto the steps from a lamp downstairs. I followed it to the living room.

And there he was. His back to me, clad in an army jacket, Dad was addressing Sam and Dean. I went to his side. “Dad?”

He paused to look down on me. “Sarah.” Dad flicked a hand towards the coffee table standing between us and my brothers. To a large canvas bag laid across it. Something long and bulky was inside.

“You caught it,” I observed, taking in the unfamiliar shape wrapped within.

“Damn right he did,” Dean replied, his voice filled with pride.

“Look for yourself,” Dad invited.

I turned towards the end, found the zipper in a quick glance.

“Go on,” Sam encouraged.

I took hold and pulled it down. It wasn’t more than a quarter of the way when the creature’s head rolled out of the opening. A familiar head covered in soft brown fur, with big black eyes now clouded in death. The doe from the woods.

Fingers freezing, I drew my hand back. The sudden weight in my chest made it hard to take in air. “This isn’t a monster,” I managed to breathe.

“No,” Dad acknowledged. His stare was pitying. “You left that upstairs.”

A sour taste rose to the back of my throat as I spun about. I tried to hurry, but it was as if my legs had turned to lead and the air to water. I was wading through the room as fast as I could. I moved at a snail’s pace up the stairs until I reached the top. Suddenly, I could move normally again, and I sprinted down the hallway. “Edward!”

I yanked my bedroom door open.

The room was empty.

I looked all around, but Edward was gone. Pulse pounding, I crossed to the window and found it closed. I was about to open it when I heard something drip behind me. I turned, finding the bed made back up. Moving towards it, I leaned over and immediately noticed the dark stain spreading across the middle. Another drop fell with a plop, joining the rest of the blood stretching out from the center.

My stomach rolled and the weight in my chest doubled until I stopped breathing all together. I looked up.

Face contorted in pain and eyes wide with horror, Edward was pinned to the ceiling. He stared down at me, accusing, when flames suddenly sprung forth around him like a fiery halo. In an instant they rippled across the ceiling like waves, covering everything above me in an ocean of fire. Everything except Edward, whose eyes still blamed me as his face began to crack and char.

I opened my mouth to scream but couldn’t. There wasn’t enough air.

Wake up. Wake up! _Wake up!_

* * *

I jolted from the fire engulfing the room into the quieter, dim gray morning of reality. The nightmare hadn’t fully faded when I realized I wasn’t alone. Within moments I had my gun drawn and pointed.

Edward, eyebrow arched, stared back from down the sights. Pulse pounding, I lifted the gun’s muzzle toward the ceiling. “Edward,” I breathed.

He was seated on the floor in the corner, one knee up, the other leg stretched out. He didn’t look at all bothered by the fact he’d had a twenty-two pointed at his face. His eyes were shining with amusement rather than fear. “Your hair looks like you stuck a fork in a light socket.” His lips curled up. “I like it.”

The gun’s hammer clicked as I released it and lowered the pistol to the end table. I looked up and saw nothing but the same mundane plastered ceiling that had been there the night before. Even so, my heart was determined to rattle against my ribs no matter how I willed it to stop.

Edward must’ve heard it. The amused gleam faded into concern as he rose with extraordinary grace. “Is something wrong?”

I forced my breathing to slow. “No,” I muttered after a moment, letting out a particularly long breath and willing my shoulders to relax. “Just one of the joys of sleep.” Edward tilted his head in question, so I said, “Nightmare.”

His brows rose and eyes widened in comprehension. He eased himself onto the side of the bed, his expression turning concerned. “Is there anything I can do?”

I took in his earnest gaze, the fact he was perfectly fine, and my heart started to settle. A shadow of a smile flickered briefly to life. “You being here helps.” Before Edward could respond, his early comment about my hair resurfaced to the forefront of my mind.

I patted at my head and grimaced. My hair was tangled in some spots, flattened in others, and strands were trying to escape all over. I ran both hands through it in a futile attempt to tame the worst of it. “On second thought, I think I would’ve preferred having a few minutes to make myself look less terrifying.”

His smile returned, wider than before. “You look adorable.”

I sent him a flat, unamused look. “Says the vampire with perfect hair.” Edward’s smile turned smug. I pressed my lips together before adding, “I need to use the bathroom.”

He folded his hands and set them on his lap, settling in for a wait. “Of course.”

“It might be a while. I need to shower,” I warned.

“I’ll be here,” he promised.

Aware Edward was watching, I grabbed the nearest clean clothes from my closet before hurrying to the bathroom. Once inside, I leaned against the door and let out a long breath. Despite being in a house full of hunters, Edward had actually stayed.

I was eager to get back to him, so made quick work of my shower and toweling dry. The clothes I’d grabbed were a simple cotton camisole and jeans. My hair was still mostly wet, and I was tempted to pull it into a ponytail but remembered Edward’s… issue… when it came to my neck. I soaked up as much water as I could with the towel before letting the damp strands lay limp to air dry. I took a little more time with my makeup. When I was finished, I felt marginally more ready to deal with the ever-perfectly put together Edward.

He smiled as I entered my room, provoking my now excitable heart to pick up its pace. I fought an urge to do something to my hair. Better to avoid drawing attention to it. Instead, I settled in beside him. Another jolt of happiness set me alight as he immediately reached for my hand. This time, his fingers threaded themselves between mine.

“Last night I got to thinking,” he began while I was busy wondering at the small change and what it meant. “I’d like to introduce you to my family.”

It took a moment for the meaning of Edward’s words to break through the shell of giddiness surrounding my mind. “ _Your_ family,” I repeated. Carefully.

Edward nodded.

“Your _vampire_ family.” It was very important to point this particular fact out to him. Just in case he wasn’t already aware of it. Or, rather, thinking clearly about it.

His hand lightly squeezed mine. “They won’t hurt you.”

I turned to stare out the window, at the line of trees beyond the yard. I could never think straight when I was looking at Edward. I needed good sense to reassert itself right about now. “It’s not that I don’t believe you.” His family had the same shade of light amber to their eyes as Edward. Vegetarians, he’d jokingly called them all. “It’s just—”

“It’s a lot to ask,” Edward agreed. Silence reigned for several minutes. “They worry.” Edward finally said, breaking the quiet. “I think if they could get to know you, like I have, there’d be less cause for concern.” I risked glancing at him. He looked nothing but sincere. “On both sides.”

My gaze returned to the window and the woods beyond. My brows cinched together. I wondered if I were really going to willingly walk into a vampire lair because my vampire sweetheart had asked me to. But I already knew the answer. It was becoming increasingly evident that there was very little I’d deny doing for Edward. And this was important to him. Just as seeing him when he looked the least human was important to him.

“Alright,” I agreed. He was smiling as I looked back to him, relief lightening his eyes. Seeing him so pleased was heartwarming. I was glad I’d decided to go. “But I’m not leaving my weapons.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to. Only…” he paused a moment before saying, “try not to brandish them.”

My brow arched. “Have I ever done that?”

Edward shrugged. “No, but there’s a first time for everything.” He stood and unentwined our hands. “I have to go get the car to pick you up.”

That meant he’d have to interact with Dean again. He gave a quiet chuckle at my scowl. A scowl which instantly disappeared as his hand settled against the side of my face. The colder, harder flesh of his palm against my warmer, softer cheek startled me. He watched me a moment before bending down and, very softly, pressing a kiss against my lips.

He was gone before I’d opened my eyes. My hand lifted to my face, felt the place where my skin had cooled beneath his touch. I let out a breath, finding the world had suddenly brightened despite the dim sunlight struggling through the thick layer of clouds.

It hadn’t even been a minute since he’d left, and I was already trying to guess the absolute most time it would take him to get his car and come back.

To take me to a nest of vampires.

The sheen on the world dulled a bit at the notion, but I refused to be cowed by it. I was glad I got to keep my weapons. Of course, the way he’d talked, they had the good sense to be worried for him because of me. It’d probably go a long way in making them feel better if I showed up unarmed, but I picked up my shoulder holster and threaded my arms through it.

That required I wear something over my camisole. I had little else besides t-shirts and flannels. I picked out the nicest of the bunch. A flannel made up of a soft cream, tan, and black plaid that I’d always liked. It seemed a little softer than the rest, at any rate, and it complimented my coloring.

I hurried down the staircase, making enough noise to wake up Dean.

Except Dean wasn’t on the couch.

Sam was in one of the recliner’s, though, eating a bowl of cereal with his eyes glued to the television set.

“Where’s Dean?”

Sam shrugged before lifting a dripping spoon. “Out,” he said before shoving it into his mouth.

I strode to the window. The Impala was conspicuously absent.

I grinned. “I’m leaving too. Edward’s picking me up.”

Sam paused in his chewing at that. “Another date?”

“He’s taking me to meet his family,” I replied truthfully as I stayed by the window to watch and wait.

“Good luck,” he muttered around a mouthful of cereal.

I glanced over my shoulder to find him more interested in the television than what I was doing. “Thanks.”

Edward didn’t keep me waiting long. The silver Volvo pulled into the driveway and settled beside the rusted old Ford pickup. I went to the closet and pulled on my jacket. “See ya.”

Sam raised a hand, eyes still on the screen. I counted on him eventually fixing the line of salt as I left.

Edward was waiting in the car when I hurried down the sidewalk to the driveway. There was a chill to the air, but nothing unbearable. Even so, he had the heat blasting when I opened the door and slipped inside. Edward didn’t waste time before backing out of the driveway and taking off down the street.

He sped through the streets, moving swiftly to the outer edge of Forks. Past the Calawah River, the spaces between houses began moving even further apart while the houses themselves grew progressively larger. Eventually the houses were left behind, the last vestiges of civilization, as we drove deeper into the forest. We stayed on the street for a further five minutes, speeding all the while, until he turned onto an unpaved road.

The car bounced and gravel bit into the undercarriage as Edward navigated the narrower lane. Ferns crowded to either side, their large leaves spreading over the rocky road and occasionally slapping against the side of the car. The road itself twisted around larger, ancient trees swathed in moss that pressed in on all sides. It was several more miles before the woods began to thin. Eventually, we emerged into a large clearing.

The house sat at the center. Well, house in the sense that Edward’s family lived there, but otherwise nothing about it was typically house-like. It was definitely a custom build, architecturally the most modern building in Forks. After it’s elongated rectangular shape, the amount of glass was the first thing to catch my eye. Three floors tall, each floor was separated by a long set of natural wooden exterior. The rest of the house was built out of some kind of concrete either poured or painted black. It was more like an art exhibit than a dwelling.

A short tiled driveway led to a garage, but Edward parked along the long drive that ran alongside the length of the home.

While I stared up at the house, Edward got out. I was still gaping by the time he’d walked around to my side of the car and opened the passenger door. “It’s not a castle,” Edward said with a hint of humor lightening his voice as I rose out of the Volvo, “but we like to call it home.”

His hand took mine with an ease that I couldn’t help noticing despite the huge house in front of me. He led me up another tiled sidewalk towards the glass doored entrance. Edward pulled it open for me, allowing me to cross the threshold first.

The inside was a freaking gallery. Not just all the paintings on the walls, but the pieces of furniture that could have doubled as art themselves. Ceiling to floor windows brightened up a huge entryway that was fully open, leading to a staircase with—of course—a glass railing.

“This is—” I struggled for a word.

“Not what you expected?” Edward suggested.

“Definitely not.”

“No coffins or dungeons. I don’t even think there’s a cobweb.” He smirked at me as he led me further within, past a Moroccan bench with intricate lattice woodwork on the back. At the center of what must have been the sitting room was a gorgeous grand piano.

“It’s beautiful,” I said as we stepped up onto the first steps of the staircase. “So… open and bright. Even for Forks.”

He turned from the step above to meet my wide eyes. “This is the one place we don’t have to hide.”

I smiled at him, earning a small one in return, before Edward led me to the second floor.

Like the first it was packed with art and beautiful pieces of furniture. We passed another, smaller sitting room to a dining room with custom seating and a long table that looked constructed out of driftwood. But what drew my attention was the sound of a television emanating from a doorway around the corner.

Drawn along with Edward to the open archway, I was left staring into a large kitchen currently occupied by four vampires.

Doctor Cullen, Rosalie, and Emmett I recognized at once. It would be impossible to forget any of them. The fourth vampire must have been Esme, Edward’s mother. She was slightly shorter than the others, a brunette with timeless face, managing to stun with her otherworldly beauty despite standing mere feet from Rosalie.

She looked up from a cheese grater and smiled at me, though it looked strained at the edges. She and Doctor Cullen exchanged a quick glance before her sights found Edward and I again. “Hello Sarah,” she said before nodding towards the grater and pile of cheese in a large bowl. “We’re making Italiano for you.”

“Sarah, this is Esme. My mother, for all intents and purposes,” Edward introduced, his voice soft and obviously fond.

Finding myself the center of attention of so many vampires had my stomach twisting uncomfortably despite the delicious smells emanating from further within the kitchen. “Hi,” I managed.

Rosalie, face pinched in displeasure, looked as if she’d tried sampling the lemons. Emmett lifted a carving knife and gave it a cheerful little wave.

Doctor Cullen cleaned several strips of meat from a Chef’s knife. “You’ve given us an excuse to use the kitchen for the first time.”

I nodded, slipping my hand from Edwards and sliding both into my pockets to conceal the growing clamminess of my palms. “It’s—a really nice kitchen.” Which was true enough. The huge room sported dark granite countertops and an embarrassment of cabinets.

“I hope you’re hungry.” Esme smiled.

Nope. “Yeah.” I exchanged a look with Edward before facing the small family. “I, uh, didn’t get a chance to have breakfast.” My answer seemed to please the group.

“You bring the machete?”

Everyone stilled at Emmett’s enthusiastic question.

I stared, wide-eyed, before glancing up at Edward. He was glaring at his grinning brother. “I, uh—”

“It’s alright, Sarah.” Doctor Cullen interjected before standing next to an outright nervous Esme, settling a comforting arm around her shoulders. “It’s understandable.”

“Is it?” Rosalie demanded as she glared at me. “Because we’ve welcomed her into our home, and she’s come armed.”

“Rosalie,” Doctor Cullen admonished gently.

“No.” Rosalie set a glass salad bowl down on the counter hard enough to crack it. “I’m not going to pretend having a hunter here is in any way okay.”

“Ignore her,” Edward advised me, his glare having transferred from Emmett to Rosalie. “I do.”

“You ignore too much,” Rosalie snapped back. “She’s already hurt you. What’s to stop her from striking again?”

Edward’s jaw flared as his eyes narrowed. “She was defending herself.”

“Yeah, Rose.” Emmett rounded the island to stand next to her. “There’s seven of us and one of her.”

“No, there’s four hunters. Plus, the one who visited,” Rosalie replied, hands balling into fists. Glaring right at me she added, “If this ends badly, we’ll could all be killed.”

“It’s alright, Rosalie. She won’t hurt us.”

Everyone, Rosalie included, turned towards an open door to a large wooden patio. A nearby tree sported Alice and Jasper, both walking along one of the longer, thicker limbs as if they were strolling across a grand hallway. Alice smiled as she hopped off the branch and onto the porch. Jasper took a step forward and dropped down right behind her.

And then I was in the kitchen with seven vampires.

But for the first time since Edward had proposed this mad idea, the constant anxiety I’d felt melted away. A kind of tranquility took its place. And I wasn’t the only one. Rosalie’s hands had relaxed as her expression lost its tension. Likewise, the nervous tautness to Esme’s soft features eased, and the worried gleam faded from her eyes.

Edward exhaled a short breath before nodding in Alice and Jasper’s direction.

Alice continued forward until she was right in front of me. And then a pair of slender, cold arms were wrapped around me. “Oh,” she said, startled as she moved back, releasing me. “You do smell good.”

“Alice.” Edward’s brows were furrowed, his mouth pressed to the side. “What—”

“It’s okay,” Alice assured him as she moved back to Jasper’s side. “Sarah and I are going to be great friends.”

No sooner had a wariness bubbled through the peace I’d felt before it was swept aside by another tidal wave of serenity.

“Hello, Sarah,” Jasper greeted from his place slightly behind Alice. He held himself so still and upright I had to wonder if he weren’t uncomfortable. He looked it. In fact, apart from Edward, he was the only one in the kitchen who appeared to not be at total ease.

“Hi.”

Alice seemed to find our interaction adorable if the way she smiled at first Jasper and then me was anything to go by. “Don’t worry, Jasper. You won’t hurt her.”

I should have found this statement alarming, but I couldn’t have felt calmer if I were by myself, cleaning my gun in what I’d begun to think of as my room.

“Sorry,” Doctor Cullen began, an arm still around his wife’s shoulders. “Jasper’s our newest vegetarian. It can be a little difficult for him.”

Edward exchanged a glance with his father before he looked back to me, brows pinched together. “I’m going to take you on a tour of the rest of the house while they… finish up.”

“Okay,” I agreed easily enough.

Edward shot a look back at his family, one I’d call distinctly irritated, before ushering me away from the kitchen.

We ended up back at the staircase, Edward guiding me up to the third floor as he asked, “Was that as awkward for you as it was for me?”

“Actually, I felt pretty calm. Considering.” That sense of peace was beginning to wear off, though. My stomach was knotting itself back up as we climbed the steps.

“Oh, that was Jasper,” Edward replied nonchalantly.

Brows drawn together, I grabbed his sleeve to hold him back. “What do you mean it was Jasper?”

Edward paused. “He’s like Alice and I. Except he can influence emotions.” He turned and leaned against the wall. “Make people feel whatever he wants.”

A chill shot down my spine. “He was manipulating me?”

Edward must have heard the alarm in my voice. His own turned soothing as he said, “He must have sensed how tense thing were getting.” Edward straightened back up. “He was trying to help.”

But all I could think of was how I hadn’t even realized I was being affected. How I’d been under a vampire’s power. How easily I’d been influenced. Despite the beautiful home and its inhabitants, I was becoming more aware of the danger I’d put myself in. “I still don’t like it, Edward,” I admitted.

Standing a step higher, Edward stared down as he considered me. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll ask Jasper not to use his ability on you again.”

I’d have to trust that he’d honor Edward’s request. I nodded.

Edward’s shoulders relaxed and we continued up the stairs. We were almost to the top, my mind still brooding on what had happened in the kitchen, when a display caught my eye. A huge picture frame taking up half the wall held within it what I first assumed were narrow rectangles, arrayed in five rows, all in various shades of blue. It looked like some sort of abstract art piece, until my eyes landed at the end. Instead of more rectangles there were graduation caps, different colored tassels hanging from their center. My eyes skimmed back down the rows, and what I’d taken for paint, I now realized was fabric—more caps, to be exact, layered one atop the other. “Is this…?”

Edward glanced at the display and nodded. “Yeah. We matriculate a lot,” he said in way of explanation.

There had to be at least twenty-five hats per row. Were they for each of them, or did one hat stand for all five? I remembered Edward’s comment during one of our lunch’s together, that the younger he started, the longer he could stay. Seeing evidence of it though was a bit mind blowing.

He started moving back up and after a moment I followed. At the top of the stairs was a hallway. As we passed a door, he would say, “Rosalie and Emmett’s room,” or “Alice and Jasper’s.” Near the end of the hall, affixed to the wall, I saw a huge wooden cross. As I approached it, I saw two more doors to the left and to the right. Edward motioned to the left one with his chin. “Carlisle’s office.”

“What’s this?” I said, obviously meaning the cross taking up the entirety of the wall.

Edward gazed up at it. “The cross that hung above the pulpit of Carlisle’s father’s vicarage.”

Last night he had told me Carlisle’s story. The son of a devout Anglican pastor in the mid sixteen hundreds who persecuted monsters and Catholics alike. Most of the monsters his father had hunted were unfortunate humans, not real witches, werewolves, or vampires. Carlisle, who had taken his place as the pastor grew older, had more success in finding actual monsters. It was during a raid on a vampire nest in London that Carlisle had been bitten and, over a period of days hiding in a root cellar, transformed.

I’d been fascinated by the tale. Carlisle, the kind and personable doctor who’d treated me, had been a hunter. I also couldn’t help but notice how it hadn’t ended too well for him, either. But then, that was usually the case. Hunters rarely died of old age.

Edward then guided me towards the door to the right. “This is my room.”

My interest in the cross waned as Edward opened the door.

Like the rest of the house, Edward’s room sported the same floor to ceiling windows, letting in all the light Forks could muster. Unlike the rest of the house, the main feature of Edward’s room was music. An entire shelf built along a wall housed a collection of albums and cd’s the likes of which I’d never seen. At the center was a complicated stereo system, complete with record player.

On the room’s opposite side there was no bed, but a long black leather sofa covered in books. A television was mounted to the wall beside the door. At the other end, a double glass door stood open to the forest beyond. Beside it, an old fashioned standing wooden radio, the kind families would gather around in the thirties and forties to listen to the latest radio show. Shelves of knickknacks and books were stacked above it.

I took everything in. Gazing at the titles of the CDs along one of the shelves. Glancing down at the record covers filling up the bottommost shelves. “This place is better stocked then a music store.” At Edward’s slight smile I turned to the expensive stereo system. It took only a moment to find the power button. Jazz began to play through the speakers arrayed strategically around the room.

I didn’t recognize the song, but the beat was gentle and the saxophone smooth. I felt a sort of calm come over me, and for a moment I wondered if Jasper were lingering somewhere nearby. I soon realized it was just being in the place where Edward was most free to be himself.

Just as the notion occurred to me, Edward’s hand took my own. He stared down at my face for several moments before his other hand pressed lightly against the small of my back. Before I knew it, he and I were rocking side to side as the smoky notes of jazz filled the room. His eyes remained as intense in their focus as ever as they gazed into mine. His body was closer than I could ever remember it being as he guided me in our simple swaying. The place where his hand rested on my back was extremely sensitive to the pressure of his touch, and the slight coolness of his skin seeping through my flannel.

As the music played on, I let my head drift onto his shoulder—slow and careful, so he could pull away if he wanted. He didn’t. I ended up resting my cheek against it, my nose close to his neck, breathing in his scent. I closed my eyes and let the music drift through me as we slowly pressed closer together until our bodies touched, and we danced around the room through one song. And then another. And another.

A knock at the doorframe jolted us apart.

Edward looked slightly abashed as he grinned. “Breakfast… lunch? Brunch?” His smile ticked higher. “It’s ready.”

“Oh.” Disappointment thrummed through me.

Edward’s hand was still holding mine as he tugged us over to the doorway where, I was somewhat flustered to see, Alice waited. Her eyes practically glowed as they settled on me. When they flitted over to Edward, his brow climbed his forehead before he nodded slightly.

They guided me back through the house to the dining room with the custom table I’d spied before. Spread out across it was enough food to feed my whole family. The rest of the Cullens were seated around the table. I was surprised to see they’d left the head seat to me. Or so I guessed, since it was the only place with any plates and silverware set up.

Sharing a brief glance with Edward, I lowered myself into the spot and took in all the food. The salad Rosalie had held before had been switched to a different serving bowl. The rest was an array of chicken dishes, meatballs drowning in sauce, pastas, and breadsticks.

A little overwhelmed, I still managed a faint, “Thank you for the food.”

“You’re very welcome, Sarah,” Esme replied, smiling lightly. “Please. Enjoy.”

I decided to sample a bit of everything, so I reached for the closest dish. Some type of cold pasta salad.

The Cullens had that eerie stillness to them as they silently sat and watched me ladle the food onto my plate. It was a quiet that didn’t let up once I started eating. Not to mention, after a few minutes, I started to realize none of them were blinking.

The food tasted good, but considering the company, my appetite fled almost immediately. I gamely kept chewing and swallowing anyway. “This is, ah, really delicious,” I said, hoping that might break the eerie silence that had settled over the dining room.

Everyone but Rosalie and a still stiff Jasper looked pleased at my verdict. “We just followed the recipes,” Esme said.

“Well, it’s great,” I replied before taking another bite.

As the silence descended again, I waited barely another minute before turning appealing eyes to Edward. He blinked several times—the first blinks I’d seen since sitting down—before angling towards Carlisle at the opposite end of the table. “Sarah was very interested in the cross upstairs.”

Carlisle smiled. “I suppose it was a surprise to find it hanging there.”

“Well, Edward had already said the cross thing was a myth,” I replied.

Various versions of chuckles sounded around the table, barring Rosalie and Jasper again. Rosalie was the first one to speak, though. “You didn’t already know?”

My fork fiddled with a length of spaghetti. “Ah, no. I didn’t even know your kind existed before.”

This seemed to surprise Rosalie. Emmett and Esme too. “Oh. We thought you were—more informed,” Esme said after a moment’s thought.

I wondered at the wisdom of exposing my own ignorance, but then figured I had to extend a little trust to them. For Edward’s sake, if nothing else. “I guess we don’t run across vampires very often. It’s never come up before.” Or since.

“So what have you hunted?” Emmett asked, leaning forward on the table. He seemed genuinely curious. Excited to hear the answer, even.

“Oh, um. Spirits, mostly.” I shrugged. “I guess you could say I’m still in training.” I started cutting into a meatball. “I help out with research. Watch over my little brother. That sort of thing.”

Emmett looked disappointed at the news that I hadn’t hunted bigger game.

Esme on the other hand had a far easier smile. “Well, of course. You’re still so young.”

I tried not to visibly bristle at that. I was sure she meant well. “I guess,” I murmured.

“Don’t worry, Sarah. You’ll hunt all sorts of things,” Alice consoled.

That did make me feel marginally better. I smiled at Alice before finishing my meatball.

Edward kept the conversation flowing after that while I finished eating. Once they were talking with one another, it wasn’t so awkward. In fact, it felt more like how I’d pictured ordinary family meals going—minus the fact I was the only one eating.

When I was full, I put my fork on my plate, took a final drink of water, and thanked them again.

“Now that you’re finished, there’s something I’d like to show you,” Edward said.

The rest of the Cullens started to pick up the dishes while Edward guided me out of the seat and to the staircase, leading me to the first floor.

Once we were back where the tour had started, Edward took my hand and brought me to the grand piano in the middle of the sitting room. He indicated the bench.

“I can’t play,” I told him.

His lips quirked upwards into that amused smirk of his. “But I do.” He sat on the bench before gazing up at me. “I wrote something for you.”

Surprised, though at this point I wasn’t sure why, I settled beside him. “You did?”

He nodded, returning his sights to the ivory keys as he laid his fingers over them.

And then he started.

I’ve never been much of one for classical music, but I was instantly entranced by the song he was playing. It started out bold, his fingers flying and pressing hard into the ivories. After the initial heavy beats of the opening, it settled into a far more lilting melody. Something I could picture ballerinas leaping and spinning to. It stayed this way, almost playful, until the darker notes were back. As if a great storm had approached and was thundering over the underlying tune of the piece. And then, as soon as it had come, it was gone. In its place was a gentle, almost hesitant but unbearably sweet melody that had my heart aching. It remained that way, tender and loving until the last note trembled from the strings.

As the room settled back into silence, I stared at Edward, who looked up and met my eyes. In that moment, I wished I was a poet. Someone good with words. Someone who could properly say exactly how wonderful the song had been. But all I had was, “It’s beautiful, Edward.”

And even though it seemed like far too inadequate a compliment for what he had composed, his eyes lit up. His answering smile, though small and even somewhat bashful, was pleased. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” I assured him.

Edward’s smile grew a little. A light melody drifted into the air as his fingers began flitting over the keys again. This time, it was a soft song that filled the large space with relaxing notes. I settled in, content to watch his hands manipulate the keys with the certainty that only comes with time and practice. Once he was done with one melody, he would launch into another. All of them light and airy.

We passed the hour that way. Edward playing the piano while I sat beside him, watching and listening. I was so captivated that the slow way his fingers stalled over the keys left me feeling bereft as the last notes drifted away.

But my regret turned to curiosity as Edward looked up from the keys to me, an excited grin spreading across his face. “A storm’s coming.”


	17. Secrets

I didn’t understand Edward’s excitement for something as simple as a storm. I was left even more confused when the rest of the Cullens came down the stairs carrying bats and talking in an excited hum that was far too fast to hear with human ears. “What’s going on?”

Edward stood. “Baseball,” he said, rounding the bench.

I was still confused, but the Cullens were in good spirits as they turned a corner towards the back of the house. Alice paused before following, looking at us over her shoulder.

“Yes,” Edward said to her. “But we’ll have to take the jeep. If that’s alright, Emmett?” I didn’t hear Emmett’s answer, but I supposed Edward must have since he moved to the bench near the front door where my jacket was laying. Alice followed the rest of her family, leaving us alone.

“I still have no idea what’s happening,” I told him. I wasn’t worried, though. The Cullens were obviously looking forward to something. “Is there a game on?”

Edward brought my denim jacket over, holding it open for me as I rose from the bench. “We’re going to play baseball while the storm moves over the area.”

“Is that… normal?” I wondered as I threaded my arms into the sleeves. I wasn’t really into sports. I didn’t know if baseball in a thunderstorm was a regular thing. Wouldn’t it be hard to play?

“Normal for us,” Edward replied. He settled the jacket onto my shoulders before taking my hand and guiding us after his family. “You’ll see why.”

The hallway led to the large garage I’d spied when we’d first pulled up to the house. Walking inside, my eyes rounded at all the cars—expensive cars—they apparently owned. Rosalie’s red convertible among them. Edward guided me to a huge jeep at the end, it’s tires nearly as tall as I was. “This is Emmett’s,” he explained as he opened the door for me.

The step to get in was higher up than the truck. So high up my knee ended up even with my hip once I’d settled a foot onto it. “Where’s everyone else?” I asked as I grabbed the edges of the door and hoisted myself inside.

“They went ahead on foot,” Edward said before he shut the door behind me. Settling into the passenger seat, I discovered there wasn’t a belt but a harness. Frowning, I puzzled through all the buckles, matching one side to the next, as Edward climbed into the driver’s side.

The engine roared to life. The garage’s door lifted, and as we backed out, I realized, “We’re going off road.”

“I thought you’d prefer this to me carrying you.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

We weren’t on the road long before he turned off into a narrow, unpaved trail. From then on, I bounced up and down as the jeep roared through the forest. Edward was grinning, enjoying himself, while I was concentrating on not biting my tongue off. I wasn’t sure if this was much better than being carried.

Once he emerged into a huge clearing that was easily the size of a few baseball fields, I let out a relieved breath. Beyond the trees that surrounded the clearing, mountains rose in the distance, their peaks disappearing into the clouds. We must have been in a valley at the foot of several.

They’d been right about the storm. Dark clouds roiled overhead, the gloomiest of which were poised east of us, over Forks. The Cullens were standing in various places about the makeshift field. Jasper was playing with his bat, flipping it in the air back and forth before catching it. Emmett was taking practice swings that were a whistling blur. All the family was in good spirits, smiling and—to my surprise—smack talking one another.

Edward and I crossed the short distance to where they’d decided to set up home plate. “Finally,” Emmett said as we approached.

“Your jeep is slow,” Edward said back, his already musical voice made even lighter with suppressed laughter.

Emmett bared his teeth in a huge grin. “We lost the coin toss.”

Edward turned to me, eyes sparkling. “Means Rosalie, Carlisle, and Jasper are at bat.”

I had no idea if this was a good or bad thing. Fixing a smile to my face, I nodded. “Okay.”

Esme approached. Her own smile was considerably easier than it had been earlier in the day. “You can call the game, Sarah.”

“She worries that we cheat,” Edward murmured near my ear, causing a shiver to travel down my spine.

“I know you cheat,” Esme admonished before threading her arm through mine and leading me away.

“It’s time,” Alice called from the center of the field. Emmett and Edward took off towards the far edges, becoming small dots near the line of trees and ferns that surrounded the clearing.

Esme brought me to the small grouping of Carlisle, Rosalie, and Jasper. The latter of which gave me a simple nod while Rosalie ignored me all together.

Carlisle tossed a bat to Rosalie, who caught it without so much as a glance. “You’re up.”

Esme moved behind Rosalie, crouching down as Rosalie positioned herself to bat. Uncertain, I hovered behind the diminutive brunette.

I could barely see the small figures of Emmett and Edward all the way across the clearing. Alice, meanwhile, lifted her leg out like a dancer as she wound back. Before I knew it, a loud rumble broke from the clouds and Rosalie was swinging.

Our hair blew back from the force of the swing, and a great crack thundered across the field as the bat collided with the ball. Suddenly, the reason for the thunderstorm became obvious. I couldn’t see the ball, it shot out of the field and into the woods. Rosalie was a blur as she took off for first base.

I stared, trying to process everything I was seeing. “That’s a home run, isn’t it?” I ventured after a moment.

“Mm,” Esme hummed as Rosalie raced towards second base, a clear quarter of a mile away. “Edward’s very fast.”

And no sooner had she said it, with Rosalie rounding third, than the ball was shooting like a bullet back across the field. Esme caught it barehanded with another loud crack, stretching out her hand just as Rosalie came sliding in for the plate.

The vampires all looked to me as everything settled into stillness again. Rosalie’s eyes narrowed as I took in the ball still pressed against her leg. “Out.”

Emmett let loose a whooping cheer as Edward emerged from the trees. If looks could kill, I thought as Rosalie rose back up. She came close enough to knock into my shoulder. Considering the strength she was capable of, the slight bump was barely worth noting. I still tensed in response.

“Nice kitty,” Carlisle said to Rosalie as he stepped up to the plate, bat in hand. Rosalie settled for standing next to Jasper, arms crossed and glaring at everyone. Esme smiled up at me before throwing the ball back to Alice.

The game went on. The ball rocketing around to thunderous cracks that echoed off the mountains. The vampires racing around the field, streaks of color to my eyes. At one point, Carlisle and Jasper collided mid-air trying to catch the ball, and their crash echoed around the field as loud as any thunderclap. They were both fine, somehow. I had to wonder just how indestructible they were.

Throughout the game, the trash talk continued. They were all in high spirits, eyes bright with laughter and excitement. It was infectious, and even though I’d never really done much other than toss a football around with my brothers at Bobby’s, I found myself having fun.

It had been Emmett, Edward, and Esme’s turn at bat when Alice suddenly went still. Edward was standing next to me when his brows cinched together, the lighthearted smile he’d been sporting dropping into a frown.

“Stop!” Alice called before racing towards home plate. Her eyes were wide, worry in every line of her face. “I’m sorry,” she said as Carlisle and Rosalie ran up behind her. “I didn’t see.”

“What is it, Alice?” Carlisle asked.

“They heard us playing. They’ve changed course,” she said in a rush that was almost too fast for me to make out. “They’re coming this way.”

Seven pairs of eyes fell on me before darting away. The easy atmosphere from before was totally gone. I wondered if some hikers had heard or seen something they shouldn’t have.

“How far?” Carlisle asked Edward.

Edward was staring off into the trees. “Minutes,” he said, scowling. “They’re hurrying. They want to play.”

Carlisle glanced at me before asking, “Can you make it?”

“No,” Edward admitted through gritted teeth. “Not in the jeep. Not even carrying her. They might catch her scent.”

They were talking about me. “What’s going on?” I finally asked.

“Others are coming,” Esme said in a quiet murmur.

Before I could find out what she meant, Emmett asked, “How many?”

“Three,” Alice replied.

“Three?!” Emmett scoffed, folding his massive arms over his chest. “Let them come.”

They all looked to Carlisle. He deliberated for several moments before saying, “If it’s too late to leave, we have no choice but to meet them.” Brows cinched in worry, he glanced at me. “We keep things peaceful and try not to draw any undue attention.”

Alice removed her designer jacket. “Here,” she said, passing it along to me. “It will help cover your scent.”

“I don’t—” but Edward was already removing my denim jacket. He handed it to Esme, who sped over to the jeep and shoved it inside. Meanwhile, he was stuffing me into Alice’s.

Rosalie huffed. “Like that’s going to help. I could smell her across the field.”

Before I could demand an explanation, the Cullens all looked to the edge of the treeline. A moment later they converged in front of me.

Edward pulled me back behind him. “Don’t move, Sarah,” he said, very quietly. Almost too quiet for me to hear. “Don’t speak.” He was worried. Maybe more than worried.

In the distance, three figures emerged from the trees. Two men and a woman, the latter of which was easiest to spot with her bright red hair. I realized something was very off by their walk. A graceful lope that was predatory. The closer they came, the more I could make out their impossible beauty despite their wild, unkempt hair and dress. I soon realized what had upset the Cullens. They weren’t human.

They were vampires.

They were dressed in an eclectic mishmash of clothes. Jeans and jackets that looked frayed and worn. The woman had a large fur wrap around her shoulders. The man in the lead apparently preferred his shirt unbuttoned, showing off a muscular chest and rippling abs. The other wore a leather biker jacket, his blonde hair tied back into a ponytail.

As they approached within feet of the Cullens, I got my first good look at their eyes as their sights roamed over us. Red. Dark crimson red.

I stiffened at the realization that they had to be the nomads who had been killing in the area. My heart started to pound as my mind raced with all the implications.

“Hello,” the man at the lead greeted in a slight accent, giving an easy smile. “I’m Laurent. This is Victoria and James.”

Carlisle returned the smile, none of the earlier tension evident as he said, “I’m Carlisle. This is my family.”

Despite the ease at which Laurent and Carlisle spoke, the rest of the two groups eyed one another. James’ eyes were narrowed as they swept over the Cullens. Victoria wore a little smirk as her own gaze leisurely took in the more urbane vampires. I didn’t see any of the Cullens relaxing their stance as Carlisle had. Edward was almost vibrating with tension.

“We were wondering if you had room for a few more players,” Laurent continued.

“Actually, we were just finishing up,” Carlisle returned amicably. “Perhaps another time.”

“Come now,” Laurent glanced around. “One more game? It’s been a long time since we ran into any company.”

“This region is usually empty except for ourselves,” Carlisle replied, ignoring the request entirely. “We maintain a permanent residence.”

“Really?” Laurent said, surprised. He looked intrigued.

Carlisle nodded. “I’m afraid your hunting activities have made something of a mess for us.”

Hunting activities? What a pretty, diplomatic way of saying they were _eating_ people. _Murdering_ them. I could still see the horrified, pained faces of the security guard and Waylon in my mind’s eye. My blood began to boil and my hands curled into fists.

Laurent looked sincere as he said, “Our apologies. We had no idea the territory had been claimed.” Curiosity overtook his accented voice as he asked, “How far do you hunt?”

It was clear he was talking about people. Carlisle didn’t bother to correct their assumptions. “The Olympic Range. Occasionally we’ll go as far as the coast.”

“Well,” Laurent maintained that easy smile, “we won’t be a problem anymore. We were just passing through.”

Victoria, still smirking, said, “The humans were tracking us this morning, but we led them east.” There was a slightly mocking tone to her words as she added, “You should be safe.”

“Though, you should know,” Laurent cut in, “there have been hunters roaming further east, along the Bogachiel River.”

Dad, I thought, eyes widening as dread clamped down on my chest and squeezed my lungs.

Laurent went on, “I would avoid the area for now, were I you.”

“Thank you for the tip,” Carlisle said, giving nothing away.

Laurent nodded. “So. Are you sure you don’t have time for one more game?”

Carlisle appeared to consider it. “I suppose one more couldn’t hurt. A few of us were leaving.” For the first time, his sights drifted towards Edward and I before returning to the Nomads. “You can replace them.”

“Excellent,” Laurent replied, looking genuinely pleased at the prospect.

Carlisle lifted the baseball in his hand. “We’ll bat first,” he said before tossing it.

Victoria reached over and caught it. “I’m the one with the wicked curve ball,” she boasted.

Amusement made Jasper’s accent more noticeable as he said, “I think we can handle that.”

Laurent laughed and clapped his hands. Relief seemed to sweep over the Cullens, and with it came smiles and renewed interest in the game.

My teeth ground together as I glared at the three red-eyed vampires. The thought of them all playing and having fun made my hand itch for my machete’s handle. Edward took my arm, pulling me away, back towards the jeep.

We were nearly clear of the Cullens when the wind picked up, stirring my hair.

I heard a long sighing breath emanate from the one called James. His sights zeroed in on me, a smile lifting the corners of his lips. “You brought a snack.”

Several things happened at once. James started forward towards Edward and I. I reached for my machete, flicking off the strap keeping it secured inside its sheath. Edward pushed me further back and crouched in front of me. A feral growl vibrated out of his chest as he bared his teeth.

James dropped into his own crouch and snarled back. The machete rang as it slid out of the sheath.

The rest of the Cullens hurried in front of us, Carlisle pushing Edward back as he got directly between him and James. Laurent and Victoria fell in on either side of James, crouched and at the defense.

“What is this?” Laurent’s eyes found me, zeroed in on the weapon now brandished in my hand. “A hunter?!”

“The girl is with us,” Carlisle insisted, staring down James. James’ head tilted to the side as he and Edward continued to glare at one another.

Laurent looked astounded. “But she’s a _hunter_.”

“Yes,” Emmett replied, baring his teeth.

“I think it best if you leave,” Carlisle warned lowly.

I didn’t want them to leave. I wanted James to come at me, as he so clearly wanted to do. But that meant they’d have to go through the Cullens. And I didn’t know if one of them would be hurt in a fight. If Edward would be hurt.

Still, I tightened my grip on the machete, meeting Laurent’s astonished red eyes and narrowed my own. I had so much adrenalin pumping through my system I felt as if I’d even keep up with their speed. A foolish thought, but my mind was tunneling on the murdering monsters standing right there, in front of me.

Laurent slowly straightened up. James shot him an incredulous look. Laurent ignored it, slowly backing away. Seeing one of his friends unwilling to back him up, James reluctantly stood as well. His blood red eyes remained fixed on me as he slowly moved back. Victoria followed at his side, the smirk from earlier wiped off her face.

Eventually they were far enough away that they felt comfortable turning around. James slung an arm around Victoria as they continued towards the woods. Laurent threw an uneasy glance over his shoulder before following.

“Edward. Get Sarah out of here,” Carlisle said softly as Edward finally stood up. Edward kept staring after the Nomads, despite the hand Carlisle settled on his shoulder. “Go.”

Edward avoided my eyes as he put an arm over my shoulders and guided me around. I struggled to put the machete back into its sheath without cutting myself as he hurried me across the field, back for the jeep. I somehow managed it before we reached the passenger door. Edward didn’t wait for me to step up, he lifted me straight into the jeep. He sped around and was inside and beside me before I had even shut my door.

He face was pinched with worried as he started the jeep. The wheels tore into the ground as Edward slammed on the gas. I rebounded off the seat as the jeep bounced ahead.

Working to strap myself into the harness, I demanded, “We can’t let them leave!”

Edward’s stare was incredulous as he turned to me. “Are you insane?!”

Now I was the one who felt like growling. “They murdered two people! We have to find them before they hurt someone else!”

Edward’s eyes narrowed as he let out a pained, disbelieving laugh. “You are. You’re insane.” He glared over at me. “Do you have any idea what nearly happened?!”

“I’m not an idiot, Edward,” I shot back. “You shouldn’t have got in his way!”

Edward stared like I’d declared myself the Queen of Crazytown. “He would have killed you!”

“Maybe,” I agreed, grabbing onto the harness as the jeep drove over a particularly bad dip in the road. “Or maybe I’d have gotten him, first.”

Edward looked as if he wanted to shake me. Instead, jaw flaring, he stared out the windshield. “You don’t have to worry about James leaving. He’s a tracker. Obsessed with the hunt.” He ground his teeth and said, “And we just gave him the most exciting game ever.” Edward looked over at me. “I read his mind. He’s not going to stop until he kills you.”

Another shot of fear went through me. I tightened my hold on the harness and forced myself to think through it. “Then I can act as bait. Lure him in.”

Mouth twisted and eyes narrowed, Edward looked as if he were going to be sick. He was furious as he declared, “That’s not happening!”

When Edward turned back onto the road, he went west instead of east. Away from Forks. “What are you doing?” I asked, alarmed.

“We’ll take a ferry to Vancover,” he muttered, as if thinking aloud. “Keep moving north.”

“No, Edward! I’m not running!”

“There’s no other option!” he shouted back.

“Of course there is! We hunt _him_!”

Edward shook his head. “Not you. It’s too dangerous.”

“Not me alone,” I agreed, willing to see his point that far. “I’d need my brother.” But Edward was shaking his head, the speedometer climbing rapidly as he drove further from Forks. “Edward, it’s okay. This is what we do. It’s why we’re here.”

His eyes slid to the side, to me, his lips bowed into a furious frown. “I can’t lose you.”

I willed myself to stay calm, “You said it yourself. He won’t stop. We’d always be running. Looking over our shoulders. There’s a better way.”

Edward glared out the windshield.

“Dean knows there are vampires in the area. He’s been searching since Waylon turned up dead.” My hands gripped the seat as I tried to get through to Edward, who still looked furious. “I’ll just—tell him I ran across James. That he’s after me.”

Edward scoffed. “And why would he believe James wouldn’t have just killed you, Sarah?”

He had me there. I tried to come up with a reason I was walking away alive if I’d caught a vampire’s attention. One that didn’t involve a whole coven of vampire’s putting themselves between us.

Suddenly, Edward hit the breaks. The jeep skidded several yards before coming to a hard stop at the edge of the road. “If you want to do this, I need to be there. To protect you.”

“I said you could hunt with me. I keep my word,” I told him.

Edward shook his head, his eyes bright and burning as they locked onto mine. “Not good enough. I can’t risk something happening to you while I’m out of sight.” He leaned towards me. “There’s two ways we do this. Either you tell your brother what I am—”

The, “No!” was ripped right from my heart.

Edward didn’t so much as blink. “Or you leave with me and let my family hunt James.”

“You think my dad is just going to look the other way if I disappear?!” I shot back, heart pounding with terror. “If the rest of you disappear at the same time?!”

“These are our only options, Sarah,” Edward said, grim as a reaper.

“Either end with you and your family dead!”

The jeep was plunged into a ghastly silence. Edward and I stared at each other. He didn’t move, while I was breathing hard and fast as my heart galloped inside my chest.

Edward leaned back into his seat, hand tense as it hovered over the keys. I swallowed, turning away from him to stare out into the darkness. “You have to decide now, Sarah. James is already hunting you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. I tried to think of another way out of this whole situation but couldn’t find one. Not so quickly. Edward wasn’t going to leave things to me and Dean to settle. Dean would figure out something was up.

And I couldn’t not tell my brother there was a vampire after me. It put him and Sam in too much danger.

But I couldn’t just take off and disappear, either. Dad had spent the last fifteen years obsessively hunting the yellow eyed demon. There’s no way he wouldn’t follow after me. We’d be running from two threats.

My hands curled into fists so tight, my nails dug into my palms.

“Sarah.”

“Go back,” I whispered.

Edward turned the key and as soon as the jeep roared to life, turned around.

I forced my eyes open, glared out at the passing landscape as Edward sped back towards Forks. “My brother isn’t stupid, Edward. Outing you outs the rest of your family.”

Edward nodded. “They can leave.”

But he wouldn’t.

Palms stinging, I gripped the harness. I had to try and reason with Dean. Make him see the Cullens weren’t threats. Not like the Nomads. With me as their target, Dean would have to consider them the imminent danger. That might be enough to convince him not to chop Edward’s head off. Not right away, anyway.

If I just took off, though—there’d be no reasoning with anyone.

The storm was still hovering over Forks, and it wasn’t long before rain started pelting the jeep. I felt sicker every mile we grew closer to our temporary home on F street. Every familiar turn sent a new wave of nausea through me. By the time we pulled into the driveway, I was ready to puke at the sight of the Impala parked ahead of us.

At least we didn’t have to deal with Dad.

“Alice and Emmett are on their way,” Edward told me as the jeep’s engine settled.

“You can just leave, Edward,” I tried, turning to face him.

He shook his head. “No. I can’t.”

Now I was scared _and_ angry. If he’d just trust us to handle things—I grit my teeth as I wrenched all the buckles apart. By the time I dropped out of the jeep and slammed the door shut, I was well on my way to being livid with him. Which wouldn’t do, seeing as I was about to beg for his life.

I forced myself to take a few calming breaths before heading off down the sidewalk. The rain helped somewhat, even if the occasional rumble of thunder reminded me how we’d ended up here. Edward followed, grim and quiet as ever, as I led the way to the front door.

This time, Dean wasn’t waiting for us. I had to unlock the deadbolt myself, push it open. The salt line scattered across the floorboards. A pair of muddy shoes sat by Sam’s cleaner pair of sneakers.

I expected to see Dean in the living room, but it was empty.

Instead, he was at the kitchen table, a plethora of newspapers, maps, and vanilla folders scattered around him. He was dressed in his usual t-shirt and jeans. A half-eaten sandwich sat on a plate near his elbow. He was frowning down at a map before he glanced up and caught sight of Edward and I crossing the living room. His frown deepened as his sights landed on Edward.

“Dean.” I stopped just inside the kitchen’s threshold, Edward hovering behind me. “We need to talk.”

“Not now, kid,” he replied, sounding tired. I finally noticed how he was leaning on his elbows, shoulders drooping.

I grimaced. I had no idea how to broach the subject with him. “It can’t wait. It’s—not good.”

Dean brought a hand to his brow and rubbed it. “Please don’t tell me your pregnant,” he grumbled before dropping his hand back to the table and glaring.

“What?!” I started before scowling down at him. “Dammit, Dean, this is serious! It’s about the vampires. The ones you and dad have been hunting.”

Dean’s sights shot immediately to Edward before zeroing in on me, anger rising in their green depths. “The hell?” he objected, straightening up in his seat.

Best to just get it done with. “One of them is coming after me.”

Brows furrowed and expression dumbfounded, Dean stared at me.

“His name is James,” Edward chimed in. I glared up at him, but he ignored me. “He’s a tracker, obsessed with the hunt. He has senses that could follow Sarah’s scent anywhere.”

Dean’s stare slid to Edward as his brows furrowed even lower. My heart began to rabbit in my chest as he slowly slid the kitchen chair back and rose to his feet. “What the hell is going on, Sarah?” Dean’s voice was a low rumble, echoing the thunder outside. A threat simmered beneath his words.

I stared back at my brother, for once in my life frightened at the sight of him. I’d never really noticed how intimidatingly large he was. How he stood as if poised for a fight at any second. “Edward knows about us. About me,” I said despite the way my mouth had dried up.

Dean shifted his glaring stare between us, but ultimately settled on Edward. His eyes flickered over him, from the tips of his hair all the way to his shoes. I could practically see Dean piecing things together in his mind. “Does he.”

“But that’s not important,” I insisted, stepping over to put myself between them.

“Seems pretty important to me,” Dean replied, voice still low and angry.

Edward turned his head towards the living room. “He’s here.”

I didn’t think my heartrate could get any higher. I was wrong. I reached out, grabbed Dean’s sleeve. “Where’s Sam?”

Tendons in his neck flaring, Dean slowly turned to look at me. “Upstairs.”

Edward twisted, looking towards the kitchen window. “Get down!” he shouted, grabbing me and shoving me to the floor hard enough to rattle my teeth.

Dean was moving, lunging towards Edward, eyes bright with fury. He had just grabbed hold of his collar when the kitchen window exploded.

I could barely make out a dark shape when Edward snarled and hurled himself across the kitchen. The two vampires collided with a gigantic crash, Edward ending up smashed into the refrigerator, denting the doors inward. James held a hand to his jaw and pushed his head further into the freezer.

“Edward!” I shouted, drawing my machete and scrambling up off the floor.

James turned to look at me, red eyes gleaming with excitement. I made to dash for him when a pair of strong arms locked around my waist and dragged me back. I shouted, enraged, as Dean pulled me out of the kitchen while James kept pushing Edward’s head further into the freezer, door buckling around him.

The machete was wrenched out of my hand before Dean shoved me back. “Get Sam!” He insisted, calm despite the terrible noises emanating from the kitchen. It sounded as if a couple of wrecking balls were swinging back and forth.

He was about to stalk back into the fray when I grabbed his arm, halting him. “Don’t hurt him, Dean!”

Dean looked at me like I was possessed. He pushed me away and pointed the machete up the staircase. “Dammit, Sarah! I told you—”

“What’s going on?!” Sam shouted, shotgun in hand as he hurried down the steps.

Before either of us could answer, the back door crashed against the wall. I caught a glimpse of Emmett before he blurred away, deeper into the kitchen where the walls were rattling.

It was barely another moment before the noise died down. I darted around Dean, ignored his furious call, and hurried back into the kitchen.

Edward stood amid the wreckage. Cabinets were busted off the walls, the counter was cracked or crushed in places, the refrigerator was a total loss.

“Where is he? Where’s Emmett?” I asked, though I had a pretty good idea of what must have happened.

“He ran when Emmett showed up,” Edward said, confirming my theory. “Emmett’s chasing him now.”

I was about to go over, to make sure he was okay, when a hard grip latched around my shoulder and forced me back. Dean stood with his machete raised, glaring at Edward in a way that left no doubt what he’d do, given half a chance. Beside him, Sam had the shotgun raised and pointed.

I reached over and forced Sam to lower the barrel. He gave me a surprised, incredulous look before his hazel eyes narrowed. “You knew.”

My own sights dropped for a moment before I took a steadying breath and met Sam’s too-perceptive gaze and nodded.

Sam shook his head before allowed the shotgun to lower all the way to the ground. “What’s going on?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Dean replied.

I shrugged out of Dean’s hold, rounding on him. “We tried to tell you! One of the vampires that killed the security guard and Waylon, maybe all those people you and Dad were looking into, is after me!”

Dean’s frown deepened. His gaze flitted to Edward.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what he was thinking. “Edward has nothing to do with the murders.”

“He tell you that?” Dean scoffed, hand tightening on the machete’s handle.

“He doesn’t have to.” I waved a hand at him. “Look at his eyes, Dean. They’re gold, not red.” Dean’s jaw ticked, but otherwise nothing in his stance changed. Despite the fear squeezing my chest, I tried to force Dean to meet my eyes. “Edward and his family only hunt animals. They don’t hurt people.”

Dean let out a scoffing breath. “He’s a vampire, Sarah.” His eyes narrowed hatefully at Edward, who was standing very still as he bore Dean’s loathing. “The bloodlust is too strong for them to ignore.”

“They’ve learned how, Dean,” I argued. “Do you think I’d be defending him if he went around hurting people?”

“I don’t know what you’d do, Sarah!” Dean snapped at me.

Edward moved towards us, causing Dean to tense. Edward didn’t go very far before stopping well outside of Dean’s reach. “If you want to hunt me when this is done, fine. But right now, our focus has to be on killing James and protecting Sarah.”

Dean’s glare redoubled. “I’m sure it’s just a coincidence this vampire gets a whiff of my sister after spending the morning with you,” he spat.

“It’s not his fault,” I insisted.

But Edward looked devastated. “We thought they were moving on.” Dean was poised to say more, but Edward beat him to it. “But you’re right. I put her in danger.”

Dean’s jaw flared as he ground his teeth. Sam was quiet, watching and listening to everything. My stomach kept twisting the longer Dean stayed silent.

Eventually, he started to lower the machete. “This isn’t over,” he promised Edward, voice dark and vowing violence.

Edward just nodded, matter-of-factly accepting Dean’s stay of execution.

Dean’s lips pressed tight together before he turned to the table. He began collecting the papers. “We need to move.”

“I’ll grab the go bags,” Sam said, rushing off towards the stairs.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

Dean handed me several stacks of papers. “Somewhere more secure. We need to plan.”

“James will find her wherever you go,” Edward said.

“Yeah. I heard you the first time,” Dean gruffed, whirling about and heading for his duffle in the living room. Edward and I trailed after. Pulling the bag up onto the coffee table, he opened the top and began stuffing the papers inside.

“I’ll take Sarah back to our house,” Edward proposed as I handed Dean the papers I held.

He sent a side-eyed glare to Edward before scoffing. “ _You_ aren’t taking her anywhere.”

“Dean.” I held onto the folder he tried to grab, forcing him to meet my eyes. “It makes sense. There’s seven of them.”

“How does walking into a vampire nest make any kind of sense?” Dean snapped, jerking the folder out of my hands.

I blew out a breath. “It’s the only place James won’t immediately attack. We can stop, get our bearings. Figure out our next move.”

Dean zipped up his duffle and stood, hefting it up. Standing at his full height, he loomed over me. “We are going to have a long and serious conversation when this is over.” I swallowed as Dean moved away. He stopped in front of Edward. “She’s not going anywhere alone with you.” Edward’s own jaw flared as the two stared each other down. “We all go.”

After a moment, Edward nodded. Sam came down the stairs carrying several more bags.

Dean hoisted the duffle over his shoulder. “I’ll drive.”


	18. Histories

The Impala roared through the streets of Forks. For once, the tape player was silent as Dean drove through the rain. With the radio quiet the only sound was the steady squeak and swish of the windshield wipers. Beside him was Sam, a shotgun in his lap. No one had bothered to tell him it wouldn’t work against the tracker. Every so often, Dean would stare into the rear-view mirror, bottle-green eyes intense from an anger that was barely reigned in.

Beside me Edward sat unnaturally still and silent. I doubted he was even breathing. Behind us the huge headlights of Emmett’s jeep shined into the car, brightening it up despite the dark afternoon storm. Edward had said Alice was driving. Emmett hadn’t given up on catching James.

Hidden from Dean’s stare were Edward and I’s entwined hands. I wasn’t sure who was trying to comfort who. Maybe both of us were reassuring the other.

As soon as we were past the Calawah River, Dean accelerated. The speedometer’s meter began to slide to the right as the Impala sped past the houses. While I’d grown more or less used to Edward’s bat out of hell driving, I wasn’t used to Dean speeding. It was a testament to how determined he was to get us to the Cullens’.

As soon as the last house disappeared behind us, leaving nothing but woods ahead, Edward spoke up. “Twenty miles. You’ll see an unpaved road off to the right. Take it.”

Dean didn’t bother acknowledging Edward, but his eyes did settle back onto the road and didn’t waver back to the mirror again.

Edward warned him again as we approached the turn. Dean finally slowed, finding the road and guiding the impala onto the wet gravel. Sitting directly behind him, I could see his jaw flexing as rocks pelted the undercarriage. By the time the giant house appeared at the end of the winding road, I expected to see Dean relax.

He didn’t, though. The opposite seemed to happen. The wheel creaked under his grip as the car settled. He stared at the long rectangular house with narrowed, wary eyes. Eyes that scanned the whole building. “This place will be a nightmare to defend,” Dean muttered.

“Alice and I will know if James approaches,” Edward said, pushing the door open and exiting.

Dean’s eyes somehow managed to narrow even further.

“You’ve got to trust them, Dean,” I said softly.

He snorted before shoving at his own door. Having climbed out, Dean slammed it shut behind him.

Sam and I shared a glance before I hurried after Dean. The less time he was alone with Edward and Alice, the better.

Dean was at the trunk, duffle bags spread out around him. The false bottom was up, and the array of guns and knives secured to it were in plain sight as he began sorting through weapons compartment below. Alice and Edward were watching from a safe distance, Edward’s lips occasionally moving in that hyper-fast way of communicating they had. I was almost positive Dean could hear the hum. I doubt it was doing anything to put him at ease.

I approached Dean, hugging my arms around Alice’s expensive jacket. “Do we have more machetes?” Sam’s door creaked open a moment later.

“You think I gave you the only one?” His deep voice still rumbled with anger.

I frowned at the tone but probably deserved it. I’d been lying to him this whole time. “I hope not.”

Dean shoved an ammunition box off to the side. “Well, I didn’t. But even if I had, they aren’t hard to make.” He pulled a cooler that had been pushed to the back towards him. A click of the side button and the lid rolled down. Whatever ice there’d been was mostly water now. But I was more interested in the plastic container within. It was one of the cheap kinds you could find at any big box store, designed to hold water or juice, with a screw on lid that had a covered spout at the end.

But what was really interesting was the thick, dark liquid inside it. The thin amount clinging to the side was a deep ruby red. “Is that—”

“Blood. Dead man’s blood,” Dean confirmed. He picked up the container, ignoring the water streaming off the outside, and held it out to me. “This, and a few spells, are all we’ll need to break through that diamond flesh of theirs.”

“What kind of spells?” Sam asked from beside me as I took the container. It was still cold to the touch.

“The usual mumbo jumbo.” Dean plucked a book up and tossed it Sam’s way.

Sam caught it with a sour glare before he flipped the cover open and started thumbing through.

“Machetes are good for the finishing blow, but we can turn anything we can write on into a weapon. Knives. Axes. Big enough bullets.” He picked up the box of forty-fives and the large ivory handled colt affixed to the fake bottom.

I blinked at the gun. “So why bother with the machetes at all?”

“Because we have to dismember the bastards and burn the pieces to kill them,” Dean replied. “Machetes are the best tool for the job.” He frowned at the pistol as he turned it over to examine the slide. “But anything that pierces their flesh’ll hurt.” His gaze lifted to Alice and Edward. “Isn’t that right?”

Alice blinked at Dean, her small mouth pulled into a frown. Edward kept his face blank. “Depends on where you hit,” he said diplomatically.

Dean snorted before turning back to the gun. He ejected the colt’s magazine clip and looked at the bullets inside. “Last used this for that coven of witches we found back in Tennessee.” He shoved the magazine back in with a click. “It’ll need reloading.”

He placed the gun into his back holster. Unhooking the stand that held up the false bottom, Dean guided it back down and shut the trunk. “Grab those bags.”

Sam closed the book and set it under his arm. He and Dean took up two of the duffels, leaving the last one to me.

“What if we just set him on fire?” Sam wondered.

“He’d stop, drop, and freaking roll, Sam,” Dean replied as we carried the bags across the drive and onto the sidewalk.

Sam’s brow crinkled in thought. “What if we poured gasoline on him first?”

“Might do the trick if you’re in a pinch…” Dean shrugged. “But better be ready for a pissed off vamp to come after you down the line if it doesn’t work.” His gaze slid to the two vampires leading us up the sidewalk. “And these bastards hold grudges.”

To be fair, anyone who was set on fire would probably hold a grudge. I knew better than to voice that thought to Dean, though. I was on thin enough ice as it was.

Alice pulled open the door to the house. Edward led us past the threshold then stopped, thrusting an arm out in front of me.

Dean, already on edge, dropped the bags and looked ready to take a swipe at Edward. That halted when a familiar figure paused on the other side of the room next to Carlisle.

“Laurent.” I’d have moved forward but Edward held me back.

“Wait!” Carlisle said, holding out a hand. “He came to warn us about James.”

“You said they didn’t kill humans,” Dean accused, moving his jacket aside and gripping the machete’s handle. “Those eyes say otherwise.”

Carlisle shifted in front of Laurent. “Laurent is a guest. He came in peace,” he insisted, calm and patient as he met Dean’s hard stare head on. “He’ll leave in peace,” he finished firmly.

The rest of the Cullens appeared in various places around the great room. Esme lingered behind Carlisle. Jasper stood ramrod straight at the top of the staircase, hands folded behind his back at parade rest. Rosalie was next to the grand piano, fists clenched and grinding.

“Dean,” I said, soft and cautious, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Dean’s gaze swept the room, taking in all the potential opposition. Letting out a short, sharp breath, he let his hand drop from the machete. But if I knew my brother, I doubt he’d let this go. Protecting Laurent wasn’t going to help warm him up to the Cullens at all.

Carlisle turned to Laurent. “Tell them what you told us.”

Laurent eyed Dean wearily. “The last thing I seek is trouble with hunters. Not so with James. He finds the notion exciting.” He looked to Edward. “I’m afraid your defense of the girl only set him off. He sees this as a great game, now. He will not stop. Victoria is his mate and will do whatever he wants.” Laurent glanced between all of us. “Be careful. He is intelligent, with unparalleled senses, and absolutely lethal. He’s as comfortable in the human world as you seem to be.” Laurent’s stare found me. “He will come at you where you least expect it.”

“Thank you, Laurent.” Carlisle indicated the hallway that led to the garage. “Go in peace.”

Laurent nodded, and with a final nervous glance at Dean, left the way Carlisle pointed. I could almost hear Dean grinding his teeth in frustration as the vampire disappeared down the hallway.

“How far is James?” Carlisle asked.

Edward lowered his arm and tilted his head. “Three miles past the river.” Dean’s sights snapped to him, eyes narrowing. Edward either didn’t notice or ignored him. “He’s circling around to meet up with the female.”

Esme approached a nearby pillar with a keypad attached to the middle. Its buttons beeped as she pressed them. Suddenly, huge metal shutters descended over the glass walls.

Sam’s mouth fell open, eyes growing wide as the shutters sealed themselves shut with a final bang. “Whoa.”

“Yeah. Now we’re locked in,” Dean observed grimly.

I tried to ignore Dean’s insinuation. “What about Emmett?”

“Aw,” came the boistrous voice as the largest of the vampires strode in from the hallway Laurent had just exited. “Worried about me?” His teeth flashed as he grinned. “That’s sweet, blondie.”

I rolled my eyes and looked to Dean. “What now?”

Dean pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “Now? I call Dad. Tell him what’s going on.” The panic must’ve shown on my face, that or Dean could read me well enough to know what I was thinking. “Relax, Princess. I’ll leave out the part where you’re dating Dracula.” He pressed speed dial and lifted the phone to his ear. “I’ll leave the joy of that conversation entirely to you.”

I grimaced.

But as Dean stood there, hand on his hip, head bowed for longer than it should take to answer, I realized Dad was still out of range. After another moment, Dean started what sounded like a message, telling Dad that he’d found the vampires in Forks, that two of them were stalking after me, and to call as soon as he could.

He was frowning as he flipped the phone shut and pocketed it again. “Plan B it is.”

“Which is?” Sam wondered. Everyone stared at Dean, waiting for his answer.

“Hell if I know,” Dean admitted after a moment. “But I’ll figure something out.”

Sam sighed and picked up the duffel bags. Hesitating a moment, he ventured further into the great room. “Um,” he said to Esme, only a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “Do you have anyplace we can—prepare?”

Esme must have seen puppy-eyed Sam as less of a threat then me and Dean. Her answering smile was nothing but motherly. “Of course.”

I picked up the other bags and followed. Dean took one from my hand as he fell in step with us. Edward and Alice brought up the rear. Esme led us up the staircase to the second floor. Jasper stepped to the side, allowing us to pass before joining Alice.

Sam took in everything with wonder in his eyes as he we moved through the house. Dean, on the other hand, scanned the rooms we passed with a far severer expression. Esme indicated a door down the hall from the dining room I’d ate at only that morning. Sam led the way in, Dean and I not far behind.

The room was a parlor. There was a great television on one side, an array of couches and chairs, and a table stood near a corner. Dean crossed to the latter, setting the box of ammunition down on top. “Bring that blood, Sarah.”

After a shared look with Edward before he turned and led the Cullens out of the room, I did as Dean asked. Sam wandered to the side of the table, dropping his bags nearby. Dean nodded towards him. “Find that spell.” He dropped the magazine out of the pistol before adding, “Bobby made a note by it.”

“Dude.” Sam’s mouth twisted. He opened to a random spot and flipped the book around, showing us a pair of pages whose margins were covered in Bobby’s spiky handwriting. “He made notes on _everything_.”

Dean arched a brow, as if asking what about that was his problem. Sam sighed and rolled his eyes before flipping to the beginning.

Dean started unloading the clip of the bullets already stacked inside. “Should I bother asking how long you knew? Or will you just lie?”

Sam’s skimming paused as his gaze lifted to me. Dean kept his own sights on the clip as he pushed out one bullet after another.

I tried not to let Dean’s accusation rile me. I had been hiding things from them. “I suspected something was up for a while. I didn’t know for certain until the night he drove me back from Port Angeles.”

“And you still went out alone with him,” Dean said, shaking his head. He met my guarded gaze. “That’s beyond stupid, Sarah. It’s suicidal.”

And that wasn’t even taking the fact my blood was so appealing to him. I omitted that little tidbit. “I trust him.”

“You shouldn’t,” Dean groused. “Even with the best of intentions, they are what they are.”

“You know they can hear you, right?” I said in a rushed hush. I didn’t know where they’d gone, but I didn’t doubt that the rest of the Cullens could hear our conversation from anywhere in the house.

“I’m sorry. Am I being rude?” Dean flicked another bullet onto the table. It landed with an obscenely cheerful _tink_. “Making you look bad in front of your sparkly boyfriend’s family?”

“Stop it,” I told him. “They’re helping us. They don’t have to. If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me.”

“Oh, I am,” he assured me in a pleasant tone I didn’t trust one bit. “Mostly, though? I pity you.” At my answering glare, Dean shook his head. “Where do you see this going, huh? Even if he doesn’t make a meal out of you, and that’s a pretty big if, how does this work, Sarah?”

“He’s got a point,” Sam said quietly.

I couldn’t believe they were ganging up on me. “I’m sorry. I thought we were hunting a couple of vampires, not discussing my love life.”

Dean shifted, his shoulders hunching almost defensively. “Love,” he said, a lifetime of derision behind the word. “This isn’t love. It’s infatuation.”

“First off, you’re one to talk,” I groused. “Second, I am not discussing this with you.”

“You think this is a conversation I want to have?” Dean shot back. He pressed his lips into an angry line as he flicked the next bullet out hard enough that it bounced off the table onto the plush white carpet. “I should let you deal with Dad,” he muttered.

A wave of pure dread chilled my insides and coiled around my chest. “You can’t tell him. Not about… about Edward.”

“I don’t need to. You think Dad won’t take one look and know?” Dean tilted his head, eyeing me with a combination of disbelief and pity. “Like I said. How did you think this was going to end?”

The coil around my chest squeezed tighter. “Edward’s not a monster!” I insisted.

“Yes, he is,” Dean shot back, eyes blazing.

My hands slammed onto the table, shaking the bullets and knocking over the bottle of blood. “No, he’s not!”

“Hey, hey,” Sam interjected, leaning forward and thrusting his hand out between us. Dean and I glared at one another while Sam’s head swiveled back and forth as he split his stare. “Now’s not the time.”

Dean’s jaw worked before his sights fell back to the magazine. The bullets continued clinking onto the tabletop as if nothing had happened. “Find that spell,” he grumbled to Sam. “Sooner we finish this, sooner we move on.”

His words did nothing to cool the anger simmering in my gut. In fact, the reminder that we’d be leaving made it worse. I pushed up and away from the table, unable to deal with Dean any longer. “Let me know when you have an actual plan.”

Dean grunted.

I stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind me. The anger was still there, mixed with a kind of desperation that I couldn’t begin to quell. I tried to breathe, dragging my hands through my hair hard enough to tear strands out.

“You’ll hurt yourself,” Edward said, appearing at my side as if out of thin air. He took one of my arms and gently pulled my hand away from my head.

I let the other fall, my breath coming out in an explosive burst. “He just—” Edward quietly watched me, concern in his gentle gaze. “He never _listens_.”

“He’s worried about you,” Edward said, making the same excuse for Dean that he had last night. “He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Don’t defend him, Edward.” I stared up to meet his eyes. “He wouldn’t do the same for you.”

Edward looked to the side before saying, “I can’t help but see things from his perspective. You do put yourself at risk being with me.”

I folded my arms and sighed. “I thought we were past this.”

Edward glanced down. “I wish that were true.” His golden gaze was sad as he looked back up. “But the thirst will always be there. There’ll always be a risk.”

“Yeah, well. There’s a risk to getting out of the shower. Or crossing the street. Let alone being a hunter.” I stared back, willing him to see things the way I did.

“So don’t be a hunter,” he murmured.

I shot him a look. “Don’t you start, too.”

He shook his head. “I… don’t understand. Why do it?” Edward frowned. “Why put your lives at risk?”

I shrugged my shoulders, staring down at the floor. “There are terrible things out there. Things people don’t even know they should be afraid of. Someone’s got to protect them.”

“But why you? Why your family?” Edward persisted.

Quiet descended between us. After a moment, I dug in my pocket and pulled out my wallet. Flipping it open, I slid out an old photograph and held it to him.

Edward’s brows drew together as he took it, staring down at the smiling faces of a much younger John Winchester and his very pregnant wife, Mary. Five-year-old Dean’s arms were wrapped around Dad’s neck as he hung off his back, giving a gap-toothed smile for the camera. I was held against Dad’s hip, staring confusedly ahead. “That’s the last family photo of us before Mom was killed.”

In truth, it was pretty much the last family photo, period.

“Killed?” Edward asked, looking back up.

I leaned back against the wall. “Yeah.”

Edward’s voice softened. “If you don’t want to talk about it—”

“It’s not that. It’s like I told you, I don’t remember her. I was two when she died.” I glanced towards the door. “Dean though… you’d think she was Saint Mary. Hung the moon and the stars. My dad’s even worse. I learned a long time ago not to bring her up around them.”

“What happened?”

“A demon killed her.” Edward’s eyes widened. I gave a grim nod. “Yeah. That’s why we’re kind of paranoid about the salt.”

“How?”

“I don’t remember what happened, so it’s all second hand. But it wasn’t long after Sam was born that a demon with yellow eyes broke into his nursery. Mom must’ve walked in on it.” That was everyone’s best guess, in any event. “From what Dad says, he heard Mom scream. When he got there, he found her pinned to the ceiling, bleeding out. A fire started around her.” I wondered if I shouldn’t sound so matter of fact about my mother’s gruesome murder—but it was even worse when Dad had told me. Even with half a bottle of whiskey in him, he’d sounded dead. I shook off the memory of his lifeless voice and went on. “He got Sam, gave him to Dean and told my brother to get us out of the house. Dad nearly went up with Mom, but he made it out in time.” I tried to read Edward’s face, to see what he was thinking, but it was carefully blank. “He’s spent every day since hunting the thing that killed her. He hasn’t found it yet, but he’s saved a lot of people along the way.”

Edward stared at the photo for several quiet moments. Finally, he handed it back to me. “You look a lot like her.”

“Thanks.” I took the picture and placed it back into my wallet. “So. Now you know the screwed-up Winchester history.”

Edward’s eyes softened. “It certainly explains a lot.” He contemplated the door separating us from Dean and Sam. “What did it want with your brother?”

I shrugged. “No clue. It’s a demon, though, so nothing good.”

“Do you worry it’ll come back?”

“It’s been fifteen years and we’ve never even gotten close to it.” I shrugged. “So, no. No more than I worry about any other monster coming after us.”

A frown pulled Edward’s lips down. “I wish—”

“Sarah!” Alice and Jasper were hurrying down the hallway. “The tracker’s course changed.”

Edward looked to the side, eyes narrowing. “He’s left the area. Already too far for me to read.” He must have gone while Edward was listening to me. I grimaced as Edward’s brows lowered in worry. He stared intently down at Alice. “A cabin?”

Alice, her own thin dark brows pinched tight, nodded. “Let me show you,” she said to me before opening the door and striding beyond. Jasper, Edward, and I weren’t far behind.

Dean glanced over his shoulder and stood up at the sight of so many vampires trooping in. “What—”

“Alice has seen something,” I said. Dean, expression baffled, lifted his arm to the sides.

“She has visions of the future,” Jasper explained as Alice went to a cabinet and pulled out a sketch pad.

“And the tracker’s has changed,” Edward added.

Alice brought the sketchpad to the table. She ignored the array of bullets and even the open container of blood as she took up a pencil. It flew over the paper, constructing lines and shading in sections far quicker than I’d have thought possible. I moved over to stand beside her, watching as a log cabin gradually appeared.

Dean leaned closer to Alice, brows pulled low as he took in the sketch. “What—”

“Whatever the tracker’s just decided will lead him to this cabin,” Edward explained.

Alice began sketching in a watering can resting on a small wooden table in the middle of the lawn. Dean’s eyes widened. “Hold on. I know this place.”

Alice paused to look up at Dean. “You do?”

Interested in the drawing, Dean seemed to forget he was talking to a vampire. “Dad and I stayed there for a few nights. It’s a rental near Bogachiel State Park.” Dean’s eyes lit up as he met Edward and Jasper’s stares. “The tracker’s going to be here?”

“If he stays on his current path, then yes,” Jasper replied.

“But people can always change their mind,” Alice cautioned.

“When?” Sam asked.

Alice frowned. “I’m not sure,” she admitted.

Dean grinned. “It’s a lead. Better than nothing.” He turned to me. “Sam found the spell. Time to get to work.”

Edward and I shared a long look before the vampires left us alone again. I joined my brothers at the table and, with a small exacto-knife, copied the symbols from the book onto the pistol’s forty-five caliber bullets. It was slow, tedious work. Thankfully, no one wanted to broach the topic of Edward and I again.

“What are we going to do, Dean?” I asked as I finished one bullet, dipping it into the blood before laying it on a spare shirt laid across the table.

“We’re gonna beat this bastard at his own game.” Dean answered. “We know where he’ll be. We’ll be there before he is.” Dean contemplated the bullet pinched between his fingers before his eyes met mine. “And we’ll be ready.”


	19. Confrontations

There was a flurry of activity in the Cullens’ garage by the time we arrived. Carlisle was standing by a cabinet, pulling out stacks of hundred-dollar bills. The others were loading the various cars with gear. “What’s going on?”

“They’re coming with,” Edward replied. “To help.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Dean objected. “We’ll handle this.”

Rosalie looked over from her spot next to Emmett. “Fine by me.”

Carlisle, frowning lightly, sent a disapproving look Rosalie’s way before turning to Dean. “Sarah is with Edward. That makes her family.” Rosalie narrowed her eyes while Dean clenched his fists. Carlisle met Dean’s furious glare fearlessly. “We protect our family.”

“She’s not—”

“Dean,” Sam said, shouldering past him with a duffle and tossing it into the car Alice and Jasper were by. “Give it a rest already.”

Dean looked betrayed, as if Sam has just committed mutiny. I couldn’t hold back a slight smirk. Spotting it, Dean glared before huffing out an angry breath. But he didn’t say anymore as he stalked towards the garage door, leaving as soon as it began to rise.

Edward ducked under after him. I jogged to catch up. “None of you have to do this.”

“You heard Carlisle.” Edward continued after Dean, who’d reached the Impala. “They want to help.”

“Not all of them.”

Edward’s jaw flared, but he didn’t deny or defend Rosalie’s opinion.

We reached the Impala. Dean had finished loading the trunk. “I take it you’re riding with us,” he groused to Edward as he slammed the trunk shut.

Edward met Dean’s severe stare head on. “We both want the same thing.”

“Oh,” Dean said darkly as his footsteps crunched up to the driver door, “I doubt that.”

“To protect Sarah and keep her safe.” Edward went to the back passenger side seat, far as he could get from Dean’s seat.

Dean stopped to meet Edward’s eyes. He had a serious cast to his face as he said, “If that were true, you’d stay far away from her.”

Edward’s head bowed, as if dragged down by shame.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not standing right here.” I opened the passenger door, pausing to glare at each of them over the Impala’s hood. “I can take care of myself.”

“Starting to wonder about that,” Dean muttered as he lowered himself into the car.

With a glance at Edward, who was now brooding if that crinkle in his forehead and the low brows were anything to go by, I shook my head and got in.

“Where’s Sam?” Dean wondered as he stared at the garage, obviously waiting for Sam to emerge.

“He’s asked Alice and Jasper if he can ride along,” Edward answered.

“What?” Dean looked shellshocked. I had to admit, I was a bit surprised as well. “Why the hell is he doing something like that?”

“He’s asking questions,” Edward answered, sounding amused.

“But with Jasper—” I said, uncertain.

“Alice sees everything going well.” Edward gazed out the window. “Jasper’s fine.”

Dean was obviously as unhappy about this news as he was pretty much everything else. He turned the key harder than necessary to start up the Impala. As soon as it was purring, Dean swung around and headed back down the winding road that would lead to the main highway. The rest of the Cullens pulled out behind us.

I knew I risked poking the bear, but I said, “This works out, Dean. They can watch him while we deal with James and Victoria.”

“Vampire babysitters,” Dean scoffed. He looked to me. “You trust them that much? With Sam’s life?”

I wasn’t wholly sure of Jasper, but Alice had never shown any problems being around people. And if she said Sam would be okay… “I guess I do.”

“Esme can stay with him once we reach the cabin,” Edward said after a moment. His eyes found Dean’s in the rearview mirror. “She’ll protect him.”

Dean’s hands tightened on the wheel as his shoulders bunched. He reached down and pushed a waiting tape into the player.

The first haunting notes of Blue Öyster Cult’s _Don’t Fear the Reaper_ filled the car.

Apart from the tape player, the car was quiet. The sun had set, leaving it dark outside. Illuminated by headlights was the road ahead and a glimpse of the trees to either side. Fortunately, it wasn’t a long trip to Bogachiel State Park.

The cabin was built on private property adjacent to the park. It was too dark to make out much, but what there was matched Alice’s sketch. Particularly the small table in the yard with an old-fashioned metal watering can sitting on top. It looked decorative rather than useful.

Unfortunately, the cabin wasn’t empty. A pickup truck sat in the driveway. Dean eyed it as he pulled up behind it. “Swear I’ve seen this truck before,” he muttered.

“What’ll we do if there’re people here?” I asked. The thought the cabin might be occupied hadn’t occurred to me before.

Dean pursed his lips before cutting the engine. “Hand me that lockbox under your seat.”

There were a couple of boxes under my seat. One was cardboard that held all of Dean’s mixtapes. The other was metal. That one I pulled out and handed over.

The rusted hinges creaked as he flipped it open. Inside were an array of I.D.s, all of them fakes. He rummaged through them for a minute before pulling one out. In the darkness, he squinted at it. “Mhm.” He handed the box back to me and I shoved it under the seat. Dean grinned. “Say hello to Ranger Zappa.”

From the backseat came a derisive, “You can’t be serious.”

Dean twisted far enough to glare back over his shoulder at Edward. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Zappa isn’t exactly inconspicuous,” Edward answered.

Dean rolled his eyes before shoving his door open and getting out.

Edward looked to me. “He’s serious?”

I shrugged before following Dean. Edward got out right after, shaking his head as he joined me.

The three of us trekked up the drive and to the sidewalk. “Let me do the talking,” Dean insisted as he straightened out his leather jacket. Clearing his throat, he knocked.

Footsteps sounded after a few seconds. Dean got his fake I.D. ready as the footsteps thumped to the door. As the door creaked open, he smiled.

The man who answered was older, maybe mid-fifties, with a head of thinning salt and pepper hair. Dark eyes stared out beneath bushy brows. In denim and flannel, he looked like someone who might’ve spent a day out in the woods. “Yes, what do you—Dean?”

I glanced sharply at my brother. Dean blinked a few times before grinning, pocketing his I.D. “Frank,” Dean greeted.

The older man’s eyes roamed the rest of us before settling back on Dean. “What’s going on?”

“Bad news. Got reason to believe those Vamps we’ve been tracking are gonna show.”

I stiffened and glanced between them, surprised Dean would bring up the vampires with—whoever this was. “Dean?”

“Oh,” Dean looked to me before indicating Frank with a hand. “This is Frank Harding. He’s a hunter.” Dean focused back on Frank. “Frank, this is my sister, Sarah, and a friend, Edward.” It was a testament to how well Dean lied that the last bit came out easily. “Where’s Dad?”

“Decided to double back to the campsite the last bodies were found at. See if he missed anything.” Frank opened the door a little further. “What’s this about vampires attacking tonight?”

Dean slid his hands into his jacket pockets. “Got a tip from a psychic. She saw the cabin. Don’t know if it’ll be tonight.”

Frank glanced my way. “Was it wise to bring her along?”

“Got reason to believe vampires are hunting her.”

Frank frowned at me. “Bad luck.”

“You got any idea when Dad’ll be back?” Dean asked, pulling Frank’s attention back on him.

“Mm.” Frank rubbed his chin, a thick layer of stubble scratching under his fingers. “Could be anytime. Sooner rather than later, I’d expect.”

Dean nodded, gazing over Frank’s shoulder into the room. “Right. Good.” He arched a brow. “Mind if we come in?”

Frank inspected each of us again, his gaze lingering slightly on Edward, before he shrugged and stepped back, opening the door wider. “Be a fool to say no.”

The cabin could easily be described as cozy. The walls were wooden, and a stone fireplace sat in the center of the sitting area. There was nothing separating the entryway from the living room and kitchen. The furniture carried on the wood theme, combined with dark colored fabrics.

The wooden floor creaked underfoot as we entered. Frank led us further inside towards the kitchen. He must’ve eaten recently. The sink was full of dirty dishes. Weapons were laid out on the table. Knives, guns, and a machete. “How’d you find the vampires?”

Dean and I exchanged a look. “Stumbled on them, really.” He leaned against the edge of the table and folded his arms. “Spent the morning tracking them with the local Sherriff and some people from the Reservation. Their tracks led us further east, though.” Dean nodded to me. “They must’ve doubled back. Sarah and Edward ran across them outside of Forks.”

“And you’re alive?” Frank said to me, bushy brows lifted in surprise.

I kept the worry from my face and shrugged. “Guess they weren’t hungry.”

“Hm.” He rubbed his chin again and leaned on the tabletop. His other hand dropped.

I couldn’t say what it was that changed. A hardening of his eyes. A shift in his stance. The overall mood becoming darker. Whatever it was, I felt it a moment before everything went to hell.

Frank was faster than I’d gave him credit for at first glance. He had the machete in his hand and shoved me aside so fast, it wasn’t until I hit the floor that I realized what he was up to. His arm wound back, and his hard eyes were intent on Edward. “STOP!”

Dean moved just as quick, grabbing the arm holding the machete. The two men glared at one another as they stood toe to toe. Dean’s mouth was set in a hard line as he used all his strength to keep the older hunter’s arm from coming down. “The hell are you up to, boy?”

Dean grimaced but didn’t let go. “Don’t make me hurt you, old man.”

Frank’s mouth curled into a sneer. “Hurt me?” His head angled back before suddenly whipping forward, ramming his forehead straight into Dean’s.

Dean backed up, blinking and shaking his head like a wet dog. Frank ran at him, shoulder dropped like a linebacker. Dean’s breath escaped in a great, “Omph!” as the older hunter slammed into him. His arms fell around the other man and both tumbled to the floor.

Meanwhile, Edward hadn’t left the cabin. He came to me, helping me up. I stumbled to the counter and reached for the nearest thing at hand—a dirty skillet from the sink. I didn’t give myself time to think. I swung.

The sound was terrible. The clang rang through the whole cabin. Frank dropped, all his weight falling on Dean.

Dean’s wide, round eyes rolled to me. We stared at each other. “Tell me he’s breathing,” I whispered.

After a moment, Dean nodded. “Yeah,” he huffed. His eyes crinkled in pain as he struggled to push the larger man off him. “Little help?”

The skillet clanged against the floor after I dropped it. I moved forward but Edward beat me there. He lifted Frank as if he weighed nothing.

Dean started to sit up but didn’t get far. Wincing, he pressed a hand over his ribs.

“Do you need—”

“I’m good,” he lied. He moved his hand away from his chest and reached for the counter, hauling himself up.

The way his mouth was clenched shut, I was sure he was hurt worse than he was letting on. “Dean.”

“Shut up,” he groused, straightening to his full height. “Get the rope out of the trunk, will you?” To Edward he said, “Take him to the bathroom.”

I hurried out the door and found the rest of the cars were lined up in the driveway, the Cullens standing nearby. Alice was next to the Impala’s trunk, waiting for me. “He’ll be okay,” she assured me as I popped it open and lifted it up.

There were so many things I wanted to say. How that was mostly luck. Ask what the hell we were supposed to do after attacking another hunter. An ally of Dad and Bobby’s at that. I said none of it, just kept my lips pressed tightly together as I held up the false bottom to get the rope.

“You should get the duct tape, too,” Alice advised.

I glanced at her out the corner of my eye. She was the definition of unruffled. Letting out a long breath and a slight shake of the head, I did what she suggested.

Back inside, Dean was waiting in the bathroom with Frank, who was still unconscious and slouched on the toilet seat. He took the rope, set the duct tape on the nearby sink, and started tying the older hunter up. “This day just gets better and better,” he muttered as he jerked hard on the ropes.

The rest of the Cullens trooped in. Seeing Carlisle, I approached him while Edward filled his family in on what had happened. “Would you mind checking on someone?” I asked quietly.

“Of course not,” Carlisle replied.

I led him back to the bathroom. Dean was almost finished tying him up.

Carlisle’s lips pressed together as he took the scene in but kept whatever objections he had to himself. “What happened.”

“He attacked Edward.” I pointed to his head. “I hit him with a skillet in the back of the head.”

Carlisle glanced at me before crouching down in front of Frank. He lifted one eyelid, and then the other, before feeling the back of his head. “Well, I can’t be sure without an x-ray,” he said, “but I don’t feel any fractures. His pupils look fine.” He glanced up at me. “I’d say he’s just unconscious.” He looked back to Frank. “But he should go to an emergency room to make sure.”

Dean grimaced. “Don’t have the time.” He picked up the duct tape, unwinding a length of it before tearing it off with his teeth. He pressed it over Frank’s mouth.

Carlisle sighed. “If you insist.” He stood. “If it is just a loss of consciousness, he should wake up soon. If not—” he frowned.

With Frank trussed up in the bathroom, we returned to the sitting room. I would’ve asked Carlisle to take a look at Dean, too, but doubted my brother would agree to be examined by him.

We just joined the other Cullens and Sam when Alice gasped. “He’s coming.”

“The tracker?” Jasper asked.

“No,” Edward corrected, face taught with worry. He turned to look at Dean and me. “Your father.”

There was a moment where no one moved or spoke. As if the gravity of the situation had suddenly overcome us and pinned us in place. Then I was moving towards Edward, grabbing his arm. “You’ve got to go.”

Edward shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving your side. Not while James is still hunting you.”

“Edward, my dad will _kill_ you.”

“Sarah—”

“How will you protect me if you’re dead?” I demanded.

Edward paused. From the pinched brows and frown, I could tell he didn’t like my point, but he didn’t say anything to refute it, either.

“Stay in the woods nearby. That way you’ll be here. Just not… _here_ here.” Before Edward could say anything, I turned to Esme. “Can you take Sam somewhere safe?”

Esme nodded. “Of course.”

“Sarah,” Sam objected. “I’m not leaving.”

“Yeah, you are,” Dean said, backing me up. He put a hand on Sam’s shoulder, ignoring the angry glare Sam aimed his way. “Not today, Sammy.”

Sam jerked his shoulder out of Dean’s hold. “Don’t call me Sammy,” he groused before turning and marching out the door.

Dean shook his head and turned toward me. “He doesn’t even like hunting.”

“He doesn’t want to be left out,” I guessed.

“I’ll make sure he’s safe,” Esme promised with a smile.

“Take Rosalie with you,” Carlisle suggested.

Rosalie, lips pursed, spread her glare around to all of us before shrugging her shoulders and following Esme, who was guiding a still mulish Sam out of the cabin.

“That a good idea?” I wondered.

“Rosalie will protect him,” Carlisle assured me.

“She’d never admit it, but she’s got a soft spot for kids,” Emmett added.

“Alright.” Dean looked around. “Rest of you better get out of sight before our Dad shows up.”

As the rest of the Cullens left, Edward stayed behind. Eyes creased in pain, he stared down at me. “I don’t like leaving you. Not while James is still out there.”

“Edward—”

“I know.” His voice sounded taut with stress.

“Dude,” Dean said, mouth pinched in disgust. “She’ll be with us. Family.”

Edward glanced at Dean before his sights fell back to me. It was clear he didn’t think that would be good enough. I squeezed his cold hand. “I’ll be fine.” Outside, gravel crunched and popped as the rest of the cars pulled out of the driveway.

Edward finally gave a single, bleak nod. He pressed his lips to my forehead before letting go of my hand and walking out the door.

“We better straighten this place up before Dad gets here,” Dean muttered.

A chair had been knocked over in the scuffle, and of course there were the weapons laid out on the table and the dishes in the sink. I started on the dishes while Dean straightened out the chair and put the weapons away.

I had barely set the last dish into the drying rack and was wiping my hands off on a towel hanging off a drawer when a sharp series of knocks sounded on the front door. “Frank? Don’t shoot. It’s John.”

Hearing that familiar gruff voice was both comforting and nerve wracking. Dean and I exchanged glances before the door creaked opened, revealing Dad.

He looked tired. A huge backpack hung off his shoulders and a knit cap covered his hair. His boots were caked in mud. More mud was caked to his knees and streaked across his jeans and military jacket. Surprise widened his eyes as they roamed between Dean and me. “Dean? Sarah?”

“Guess you didn’t get our message,” Dean said.

“Message? No. What’s wrong?” His eyes narrowed as he scanned the room. “Where’s Sam?”

“Somewhere safe,” Dean replied. Dad’s brows dropped low. Dean pressed on. “I found the vampires. Or they found us. Two of them are after Sarah. The third split off. Don’t know to where.”

“Dammit,” Dad muttered, walking further in and sliding the backpack off his shoulders, laying it against the wall. He stepped up to us and looked to me. “Were you hunting them, Sarah?”

I could have tried lying, but if he thought I’d stumbled upon them without the Cullens’ involvement, all the better. “Yes, sir.”

Dad’s jaw flared, his eyes boring into me as he stood there and stared me down. “After I told you to stay out of it?”

I said nothing in my defense.

Eventually he let out a tired sigh and moved towards the refrigerator. “You know they’re after her for certain?” he said to Dean as he opened the fridge’s door.

“Pretty sure,” Dean confirmed. “One attacked the house. We chased it off.”

“And you’re alright?” Dad asked, straightening up with a bottle of beer in hand.

Dean nodded. “We got lucky.” When he didn’t bring up Emmett or Edward, I let loose a relieved breath. Dean then filled him in on our psychic lead, leaving out who the psychic was all together.

“This vampire coming here can’t be a coincidence,” Dad mused. “When did you arrive? Where’s Frank?”

Dean and I were careful not to look either at each other or the bathroom. “Frank Harding?” Dean started, seeming surprised by the news with his brows rising ever so slightly. “Was he supposed to be here?”

Studying Dean, Dad angled his head towards the door. “It’s his truck sitting outside.”

“Right.” Dean pursed his lips before slipping his hands into his pockets. “Well. He’s not here.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed in thought as he took a swig from his beer. “You guys have swept the place?”

“Course,” Dean said, sounding a touch offended. I merely nodded.

“Hmm.” He began moving, looking around. “And no sign of a struggle?”

Dean looked as if he were considering it before saying, “No,” in a doubtful tone.

Dad was just about at the small kitchen table when a thump sounded from the bathroom. Dean and I exchanged panicked glances. Dad’s attention turned to the sound like a bloodhound. “What was that?”

“What was… what? I didn’t hear anything,” Dean tried. He looked to me as Dad twisted to stare at him. “You hear anything, Sarah?”

Other than my pulse pounding it my ears? “Nope.”

Another thumping came from the bathroom. Dad’s gaze narrowed. “You don’t hear that?”

“Mm-mm.” Dean kept his face carefully blank.

As Dad approached the bathroom, Dean and I shared another flustered look before Dean hurried to intercept Dad. “You don’t want to go in there. It’s… it’s awful, Dad.” Dean held up his hands. “Really bad. Burritos.”

Dad stared at Dean when a muffled shout and a banging on the floor sounded from behind the door. Dad’s brows lifted as he reached for the handle and turned.

Frank was conscious again. He glared out at us from his seat on the toilet, tied up and duct taped. “Mmmph-mmm!”

Dean exhaled a long breath. “Crap.”

Dad turned around again, eyebrows summiting to his hairline as he took both of us in. “What the hell is going on?”

Frank’s angry, muffled tirade was ignored.

“Well, ah. Frank kind of… attacked us.” Dean’s, hands in his pockets, spread his jacket open.

Dad stared as if Dean had spoken a different language. “Frank Harding attacked you.”

More angry mumbles punctuated Dad’s incredulous statement.

“Yes. He did,” Dean replied, glaring at Frank. “With a freaking machete.”

Dad considered this as he turned to stare down at Frank. Staring back up at Dad, Frank mumbled something and shook his head. His eyes found us and he became more agitated. Dad frowned and reached down, pinching the edge of the duct tape. With a quick rip he tore it off.

“SON OF A—” Frank groused, booted foot pounding on the tiled floor.

Dad let him swear for a few seconds before demanding, “What’s this about you attacking my boy?”

Frank quieted long enough to glare in our direction. “Your kids came in here with a leech, John. I was going after _him_ when Dean there stopped me.” He grimaced as he added. “And then she must’ve hit me on the back of the head, because the next thing I realize I’m waking up in here, tied up.”

Dad twisted back to us, and when he spoke, it was with a hard voice. “You two better start telling me what’s really going on. What’s he mean you were here with a vampire?”

Dean and I exchanged another glance, both wondering who should take the fall for this. Heart pounding, I admitted, “They’re helping us catch the other vampires.”

Dad’s stare pinned me to the spot. “Vampires. Helping catch,” his bottle of beer swung to the side, “other vampires?”

“It’s true,” Dean added. “I didn’t believe it at first either, but they haven’t attacked us.” He reluctantly added, “Plus, they gave us the intel about the tracker.”

I turned to Dean, surprised once again that he was backing me up. I could have hugged my big brother.

Dad lifted a hand to rub at the heavy layer of stubble on his chin. It was so thick it could almost qualify as a beard. “So, these vampires of yours told you about the other vampire?” Dad let loose a scoffing laugh. “Are you serious?”

“Serious enough to hit me on the head!” Frank groused.

“Dude. You attacked us,” Dean defended.

“I was after the blood sucking monster!” Frank snapped.

Dad set his hand on his hip. “Alright. Everybody calm down.” He looked to Frank before turning back to us, reaching back to pull a huge hunting knife out of his belt. He held it out to Dean, handle first. “Untie him.”

Dean hesitated a second before shaking his head once and taking the knife. He and Frank glared at each other as he came over and started sawing through the ropes.

“You,” Dad said, pointing to me, “better start talking.”

I omitted most everything and gave him the barest run down. The Cullens were vampires that drank animal blood, not human. They went to the same school as Sam and me. I’d been invited to visit them when the nomads showed up. Their defense of me was how I gained James’ attention.

Dad listened to it all without a break in his demeanor. I had no idea if he thought I was telling the truth or if I’d gone crazy. Dean was done releasing Frank by then. He’d wandered over to lean on a kitchen counter near me, arms crossed and head bent as he listened.

“Vampires that drink animal blood,” Dad finally said once it was clear I was finished talking.

“That’s bull,” Fred put in, sitting at the table and holding a bag of frozen peas to the back of his head. “They’d never be able to resist the bloodlust.”

“The Cullens do.”

“And these other nomad vampires, you think they’re the ones I’ve been after,” Dad clarified.

I nodded. “They mentioned hunting in the area. They knew you were here.”

“And the one after you is coming here, tonight?”

“We don’t know when,” Dean corrected.

Dad absorbed it all. After a moment, he downed the rest of his beer. The bottle clanked against the table as he set it down. He turned to Dean. “Go get the equipment from the car,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Dean replied before hurrying out the door.

Dad’s sights settled on me as Dean left. “I told you not to get involved, Sarah.”

“I know,” I said, keeping my head up.

“You didn’t listen, and now you’re in danger,” Dad went on. He looked at Frank, still nursing his head, before zeroing back on me. “You’ve put the rest of us in danger.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I pressed my lips together and kept quiet.

Dad stared at me for a few more seconds before nodding to himself. “We’re not done,” he warned. Before I could do much more than frown, he nodded towards the sitting room. “Settle in. Might be a while.”

I walked back to the sofa and sat down, frowning at the television. Some kind of detective show was on, but the window kept drawing my gaze. Even after Dean walked in with the duffle of weapons, I couldn’t help but look out into the darkness beyond the cabin. The Cullens were still out there, waiting. Edward was out there.

I was obviously left out of the planning. Dad distributed the weapons, and other than a machete that Dean passed along to me, I was ignored. The men made plans for what should happen depending on how the vampires attacked. Whether they came through the door, or one of the many windows, or through another room.

I was hurt that they didn’t include me, but I figured that was the point. I shouldn’t have been involved, and now I was cut out of the loop. So I sat on the couch and listened, stewing. I had found the vampires, after all. And I was the one they wanted. I grit my teeth, knowing that saying as much would only get me in deeper trouble with Dad.

At least Dean was keeping quiet about the Cullens.

The night passed by. Before long, it was after midnight, and I was left watching infomercials while the others sat in the kitchen. Dean sometimes came and sat next to me. It wasn’t long before he grew bored with the television and wandered back to the table, asking Dad what he’d been up to while he’d been with Sam and me.

I was starting to feel drowsy when my cellphone vibrated. Blinking the tiredness away, I grabbed it from my pocket and answered. “Hello?”

“Sarah, move!” Alice shouted on the other end of the phone.

“What?” I said, startled.

It was then I heard a roar from outside. One of the vehicles had started up and was moving. Moving fast.

I stood up as Alice continued, “Victoria and James, they’re there! You need to move back!”

I heard the others stand up as I began backing up into the kitchen.

“That my truck?” Fred wondered.

Debris exploded throughout the sitting room as Fred’s pickup burst through the wall. Several bits of the wall came down on the hood of the truck, but the wall otherwise stood. The couch I’d been sitting on had been knocked halfway into the kitchen, the end I’d been sitting at crushed and broken.

Pandemonium reigned as the two vampires launched themselves through the windshield. Dean had his colt out and was firing at Victoria. But clinging to the walls, she launched herself around the room like a jumping spider. James seemed to fly at Dad. Machete out, Dad swung at James’ head, but the vampire dodged with a smile.

“Friggin’ hell!” Dean set his gun on the counter and pulled his machete free. “C’mon!” he shouted, legs bowed as he readied himself to go toe to toe with Victoria.

Frank had his own machete in hand. He swung at James but had the same luck as Dad.

They were just too fast.

They needed a distraction. Drawing out my own blade as Victoria launched herself at Dean—and laughed as his swing missed—I decided to make one. Twisting my arm, I set the blade against the back and drew down, into the skin.

The blood welled up almost instantly. And, like I’d hoped, it gained the two vampires’ immediate attention. They whirled at me, hissing, teeth glistening with venom, crouching to pounce.

Dean finally got a hit in, but Victoria regained herself before he could wholly chop off her head. With a screech she darted away, a dark crack cutting through half her throat.

James growled, and when Dad took the next swing, caught his blade. He slid a sinister glance Dad’s way before snapping the blade in half.

Frank drew a flask from his pocket and unscrewed the cap. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the contents James’ way.

It splashed in James’ face, prompting an annoyed look from the vampire. “I’m going to rip your throa—”

His threat turned into a scream as Frank took out a zippo lighter, flicked it open, and set it alight before throwing it onto him. James flailed backwards as flames erupted around his head.

Frank tossed his machete to Dad, who caught it mid-air. When he swung this time, James didn’t dodge. He lifted his arm, catching the blade in his bicep with another howl of rage.

His other hand struck out, impossibly fast, catching Dad’s neck. He flung him across the room, into the far wall, like he weighed nothing. Dad hit headfirst with a sickening crack.

“Dad!” I hurried over to him. His eyes were closed, but I could see the rise and fall of his chest. I heard another terrible thud and saw Frank had been the next one to be hurled across the room.

Whatever accelerant Frank had used on James burned away. The flames were gone, leaving James’s face a charred, smoking wreck surrounded by burnt hair sticking out at all angles.

And he was pissed.

I drew my machete as he stalked across the room. His burnt head tilted to side, taking in my blade. He growled.

When he struck, it was almost too fast to see. That speed put me on the defense. Instinct and reflex guided me more than conscious thought. He lunged, I stepped and swung. His body angled to one side, mine shifted the opposite way. The machete kept him from getting too close.

For all his excitement about taking on hunters, he wasn’t a very good fighter. He telegraphed all his moves, which was the only reason I was alive after the first few strikes. He must’ve been used to his speed and strength being enough to subdue his victims and didn’t worry about technique.

But I couldn’t keep dodging forever. James wasn’t going to tire like I would. All it’d take was one wrong step or move and he’d have me. I stared into his red eyes, gleaming with excitement, and adjusted my hold on the machete.

I took a swipe at the arm Dad had gotten earlier, which was moving slower than the other. He was still too fast, dodging almost as soon as I moved. I tried feigning to the side, throwing an uppercut with my other hand as soon as he dodged. The move worked, but it was like punching a boulder. I did more harm to myself than to him.

He laughed. It was a mocking, sinister thing that tried to crawl under my skin. I glared and swung out with the machete. It didn’t even look as if he were trying that hard as he leaned off to the side, letting the blade sweep harmlessly by. Frustration made me want to be bolder with my swings, to take more risks—but I ignored the impulse.

It had been less than a minute, but the hyper vigilance required to fight James made it feel so much longer. I could hear Dean and Victoria but couldn’t risk a glance. Dad and Frank still hadn’t moved. I had no idea where the Cullens were. It was just me and James, striking and dodging.

And then the slip up happened. I attacked, coming at him with an overhead swing of the machete. He caught my wrist. Panic squeezed my heart, dried out my mouth as I found myself staring into his too-close grinning face. I tried to pull free, but it was useless. I kicked out, but he didn’t even seem to notice.

He squeezed my wrist until it felt as if the bones would grind together. I held onto the machete as long as I could, gritting my teeth as tears formed in the corner of my narrowed, glaring eyes. James just smiled and squeezed harder. Eventually it was too much, and I let go with a shout born as much from fury as pain. “Dean!”

“He’s a little busy,” James said, pulling me to the side far enough to let me see that Dean was at the opposite side of the room. Laying beside the front of the truck sticking through the wall, Dean tried to push himself up off the floor as Victoria stalked towards him.

“I’m disappointed,” James went on while I watched Dean, willing him to get up. “Four of you, and this is the best you can muster?”

Dean looked groggy as he wobbled upwards, using the truck to help. Then Victoria was there, and while Dean tried to jerk away, she caught his collar and hoisted him into the air. She said something to him, Dean said something back, looking furious. Her mouth fell open and she leaned in towards his neck as Dean tried shoving her away.

“No!” I shouted, kicking at James’ knee. It didn’t buckle.

With a great screech of metal and tortured creaking of wood, the front of the truck suddenly disappeared from sight, as if sucked back out into the yard. I caught a glimpse of Jasper’s blonde hair as he streaked inside, grabbing Victoria’s head and yanking it back. The way he was pulling, it looked as if he were trying to rip it off her neck.

Another streak stopped behind James. Edward. He wrapped an arm around James’ neck, and squeezed. “Let her go,” he growled.

James’ hold only tightened, forcing another shout out of my gritted teeth.

Edward snarled, “They’ll kill your mate.”

Risking a glance away from Edward and James, I saw Victoria had escaped Jasper’s grasp. She was dodging his and Emmett’s attempts to grab her. Finally, with a look back to James, she streaked out the hole in the front wall. Jasper and Emmett disappeared after her.

“She’s gone,” I said through clenched teeth.

James’ eyes narrowed.

He dropped me so suddenly, I staggered. I moved to grab the machete but James kicked it away. I ran after it, hearing the renewed crashing of stone that said he and Edward were fighting. Reaching my weapon, I picked it up with my other hand and turned.

James bashed an elbow into Edward’s face, so hard I heard something crack, and then he was moving towards the far wall. Edward stumbled back as if stunned. James paused, looking over at me. Then his gaze fell to the two prone, unconscious hunters on the ground.

He bent down and grabbed Dad.

“No!” I shouted, hurrying towards James as he swung my dad up over his shoulders in a fireman’s hold. Edward was still trying to get his bearings, but hearing my cry seemed to help. He focused, first on me and then on James.

Edward sped towards him, but James was already a blur, disappearing out the hole in the wall. Edward knocked into the table, shook his head, and turned. This close, I could see a faint crack across Edward’s nose.

Outside, the Impala rumbled to life.

“Oh, hell no!” Dean’s steps were unsteady as he hurried to the wreckage that had been the front door. “No! No! NO!” He went on as he disappeared outside.

I hurried after, making it to the porch just in time to see the Impala back out onto the road. Dean was rushing down the gravel driveway, shouting obscenities at James. James looked out the window at us before the Impala roared down the street. The Impala disappeared around a curve before I’d even made it to the porch steps.

They were gone.

Dad was gone.


	20. Death

“You gotta give us more than this!”

“I’m sorry, Dean, but this is it.”

Paper crinkled as Dean picked up Alice’s latest sketch and waved it in her face. “You know how many houses like this there are?!” He slapped it on a nearby table and pointed. The drawing was of a two-story split level with a few trees in the yard. A house so generic it could have been in any middle-class neighborhood, anywhere. “You’ve gotta see more! Something we can go on!”

“Dean.” Sam sat on the sofa, back and head bowed low.

Dean wasn’t listening. Instead, he paced in front of Alice’s chair. “Doesn’t have to be important. Anything could be a clue.” He whirled on Edward, standing not far off from Alice. “You can see into her head, right? What are we missing?”

Edward, eyes crinkled as if in pain, sighed. “There’s nothing I could tell you that Alice hasn’t.”

Dean stalked over, getting right in Edward’s face. “Not good enough.” He turned, taking in the Cullens, Sam, and me. “Not even close,” he said, eyes bright with anger and something even more troubling. Fear.

He rubbed a hand over his mouth and, before anyone could say a word, stalked out of the room.

Sam, hands squeezed together and bouncing his knee, shot me a wounded look. It begged me for some sort of idea, or plan, or maybe just comfort. But nothing came to mind. Sam’s gaze dropped to the floor before he too shot up and walked out after Dean.

Edward moved closer. “We’ll find something—”

“Where?” I demanded. I needed to do something, but there was nothing I could do. Nothing but clench my fists and grit my teeth to keep from yelling. “How?”

“I’ll focus on the Tracker,” Alice put in, rising from her seat. “Until something changes.”

What I couldn’t stop thinking but wouldn’t say was that Dad’s life was the thing that might change. If it hadn’t changed already.

* * *

By the next day, there wasn’t much left to hope for.

The world was a different place. Walking the Cullens’ home, all the wonder and splendor I’d once seen was now a collection of things. A pit had opened within me, and nothing I set sight on could fill it. There was only the terrible knowledge that dug it deeper and deeper every time my mind turned to it, and however much I would’ve given to think of anything else, I couldn’t think of anything but.

I couldn’t cry. I was too empty for tears.

I wandered, aimless. I roamed the woods, found a nearby river. I watched the rushing water. How the light glimmered off the rippling currents beneath. I listened to the trill of birds and the chirrup of crickets. To the rustling leaves. Smelled the loam and the clean waters and the taste of last night’s storm lingering in the air. There was no relief in any of these things. The emptiness swallowed it all as the dread dug an even deeper hole.

I returned to the house, avoided the commotion in the grand room. Quietly, I went upstairs to the parlor. There were bullets unmarked, unblemished blades. Hoping for a distraction, I carved in the symbols until it was as if they were scratched behind my eyelids. But no matter what I did the emptiness remained.

And then my cellphone vibrated. I ignored it. A few seconds later, it buzzed again.

I slipped it from my pocket and looked at the number. I didn’t recognize it. “Hello?”

And the only thing that could fill the void spoke. “Hello, Sarah.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. The smirking words stunned my mind, chilled my fingers, my spine, and boiled my blood. To go from feeling nothing to so much, it took a moment to find my voice. I gripped the phone till it creaked. “James.”

I could hear the smile in the snake’s voice. “The other night was a good try. But not good enough.”

I stared past the loveliness of the Cullens’ parlor to a darker place conjured by my mind. A place dank and cold. “Where’s my father?”

“Right here. Want to say hello?”

I held my breath, but the phone had gone quiet. A quiet broken by the whack of a fist hitting flesh. A pained, familiar gravelly voice said, “Sarah, whatever he wants, don’t do it.”

My heart leapt so far, it choked me. “Dad! Dad, where are you?!”

“You don’t listen to him. You hear me?” He started shouting more, but the phone moved away before another crack cut him off.

James’ smoother—yet crueler—voice was back, slithering through the phone. “Your father’s a stubborn man, isn’t he? What you both need is a little incentive.”

“What? What do you mean?” I asked as the line went quiet again.

It did not stay that way.

Screams. Terrible, horrible screams. I’d never heard anything like them. Raw, frightening, they pierced straight through to a primal instinct. An instinct that raised the hair on the back of the neck, dug into the gut, twisted it, turned it inside out. And they went on, even past the point Dad should need to breathe. He just _screamed_.

“I trust I have your attention.”

“Stop! Just… just stop!”

“I will,” he said, even as Dad continued to scream in the background. “I’ll even tell you where he is.”

There’s never been a point to wondering how I might die.

“And you can end his suffering.”

I’ve always known how, if not by what or when.

“But you have to come alone.”

Hunters don’t live to a ripe old age. I’ve always understood that.

“If you don’t, I’ll know.”

You’d think that’d make me braver. So why was I so scared?

“And poor daddy would pay the price for that mistake.”

I wouldn’t let him know. I’d never give him that satisfaction. “Where?”

He breathed a low, short laugh. “Why don’t we go back to the beginning. The place where it all started. One-eight-three Rose Lane.”

“I don’t know where Rose Lane—”

“Lawrence, Sarah. We’re in Lawrence.” A great frost spread throughout my body. It started from the tips of my fingers and inched its way into my chest, freezing my heart and lungs to ice. “That’s where we’ll be waiting.”

The line went quiet for the last time. I sat, phone pressed to my ear, phantom screams echoing from the silent speaker. I could do nothing but stare as pure horror seeped through my chilled skin to my bones.

And then I moved until moving was all I focused on. Not what would happen once I reached my destination, but the steps necessary to get there.

There was no way I’d get to Kansas in time by car. It was at least a day’s drive away from Washington. I’d have to fly. A quick call to information put me in touch with the airport in Seattle. From there, it was easy to pull out a fake card and reserve the next flight out to Topeka from Seattle—a three-and-a-half-hour flight with no stops. But getting to Seattle on time would be tight. It was at least another three-hour drive. Another half an hour from Topeka to Lawrence. Seven hours of Dad at that monster’s mercy.

I had to go alone. James had the senses to know if I dared show up otherwise. But if I didn’t manage to kill James, someone else would have to carry on the hunt. I needed to leave a clue. Something they could follow, but not right away.

After a moment’s thought, I took out my wallet and the old picture inside. In the background of our little family sat the Impala, and behind that, our old house. Or half of it, at least. Now that I knew where James and Dad were, the resemblance between our old home and Alice’s sketch was uncanny. I dropped the picture on the table, face up.

I couldn’t bring weapons. I’d have to make new ones once I arrived. I quickly copied the spell to a piece of paper and grabbed the bottle of blood.

I took nothing else with me and kept my pace normal as I left the parlor and descended to the first floor. The Cullens had been keeping their distance from us—either to give us space or out of discomfort. Alice must’ve been focusing on James, it was the only reason I figured Edward hadn’t already appeared to stop me. That wouldn’t last forever.

All lights were off in the garage. I kept it that way. Slipping between the rows of cars, I quietly slid into the driver’s seat of Rosalie’s bright red convertible. It was a newer model, requiring use of my switchblade to pry open the panel beneath the driver side dash. “Red is the battery, and yellow is the engine,” I muttered to myself as I cut those two wires and shaved off their coating.

Taking a deep breath, I tapped their exposed ends together.

The engine was quiet as it started, but loud enough for me to hear. And if that was the case, definitely loud enough for the Cullens. I hoped they’d assume it was one of the others before thinking it was me.

Either way, a timer had started.

Watching the hallway door, I pressed the garage door button. Watching the slow, upward rumble of the garage door, my hands flexed on the wheel as I nibbled on my lower lip. As soon as there was enough space for the BMW to clear, I shifted into reverse and hit the gas.

The car seemed to glide it rode so smooth as it raced back. I didn’t stop until I was on the rough road beyond the driveway, then tested the breaks. They were excellent. Shifting into drive, I pressed the gas as far down as I dared given the winding road ahead.

It wasn’t until I was speeding down the highway on the opposite end of town that I felt safe assuming I’d managed to get my head start.

The radio was tuned to a pop station. I pressed scan, letting it flit through the stations. Rock. Country. Oldies. And then I heard the flitting strings of a piano. It reminded me of Edward, and the thought of him brought some measure of serenity to the otherwise screaming train wreck that was my mind.

I spent what might be some of my last hours on earth listening to classical music, finding myself soothed by it. I wondered what Dean would think. Probably that I’d gone Stepford or something. The thought made me smile a little.

I pressed on the gas and the speedometer climbed.

The drive to Seattle took far less time than it would ever have in the truck or the impala. Finding the airport was a matter of asking for directions as I filled up the tank. Least I could do for Rosalie. Before I paid, I grabbed a plastic bottle of fruit punch from the gas station’s cooler. Once back outside, I emptied it out and transferred some of the blood from the larger bottle into it.

Since the airport was off the interstate, I didn’t lose much time or have trouble finding it. Sitting in the middle of the city, I could see buildings in the distance as I turned into the parking lot. The runways were on a giant field beyond the terminal, an unusually large tract of bare land for a city like Seattle. The terminal itself was a long, curved building packed with people moving in and out. The parking lot looked like a great arrow, and despite it being a weekday, it was packed. I ended up parked further back than I’d like—in clear view of the highway. Anyone looking would easily spot the red convertible.

All the more reason to hurry.

I grabbed my bottle, made sure my wallet was in my pocket and left the BMW. It was still dim and cloudy overhead, which wouldn’t help if the Cullens decided to follow. I walked as fast as I could without outright jogging. Soon, I was close enough to see the large dark signs with different airlines over the many different doors. I had a bit of luck that my airline was near the end I’d parked on.

Passing several people through the glass doors, my eyes were immediately drawn to the giant arrival and departures display. The time was, as I’d feared, down to the hour. Thankfully I had no baggage to check in, but there was a long line at the security checkpoint.

I had to stop at the ticket counter to pick up my ticket, losing more time in line. But that was nothing to the security stop. I kept checking the time, watching the minutes tick up.

I was barely through the security checkpoint when I saw them. They were too conspicuous not to pick out of a crowd. Edward, Alice, Carlisle, Jasper, and Dean. Dean was searching the terminal. Our eyes locked.

Hoping he’d forgive me, I stepped up to the nearest security guard. “Excuse me.”

A harried looking man in his late thirties, sporting a thick mustache and light eyes with dark bags underneath, turned to me. “Yes?”

“That guy there.” I pointed to Dean, even as he was pointing me out to the Cullens. “In the leather jacket?”

He pointed Dean out, which made my brother pause.

“I saw him flashing a gun earlier.” I put on my best damsel eyes. “I mean, it might be nothing, but—"

The man’s mouth flattened to a serious line before he reached for the radio on his shoulder. “Thank you. We’ll look into it.”

“No, thank you,” I said, dripping feigned sincerity, before backing away as he spoke into his radio.

I could feel the death rays shooting out of Dean’s eyes from across the terminal as several security personal moved in. Trying to charm his way out of it, Dean raised his hands and turned on that easy smile. Unfortunately for my brother, they weren’t buying his act.

I didn’t stay to watch as I hurried off into the crowd. That might detain Dean, though I had no idea if he’d carried his gun inside the airport. Either way, it was the Cullens who had the means to buy tickets and come after me.

I had to disappear.

Like any airport, duty-free shops were everywhere within the terminal. A display of jackets gave me an idea, and I made a beeline for the store. Alice would have likely shuddered as I didn’t bother perusing my options and grabbed the nearest to the door, the forest green army jacket that had brought me to the store in the first place. I added a baseball cap and a bottle of perfume that, for some reason, were displayed everywhere in all the shops.

I shrugged the jacket on as soon as I was done paying and pulled the cap on my head. I ended with a spritz of perfume to cover my scent and then tossed it in the trash.

From there it was easy to sneak onto the plane, though I’d barely made it. They didn’t have the time to stop me. That’s what I told myself. I still watched the door until it shut and didn’t breathe easier till the plane was accelerating down the runway. It was wrong to say I relaxed once we were in the air, but I’d managed to escape Dean and Edward.

Unfortunately, the flight gave me hours to do nothing but sit and think. There was a movie playing after the first half-hour, but I couldn’t concentrate on it. Instead, I stared out the small window as the cloud tops passed beneath. The sun was just past its zenith and shone over a brilliant blue sky. It was beautiful, but hard to appreciate. All I could think about was Dad and the fact I was about to walk into a trap I wasn’t likely to walk out of.

It seemed both too long and no time at all when the plane descended over a far more modest Topeka. Having taken nothing on board apart from my bottle of ‘fruit punch’, I was ready to go as soon as the plane was on the ground and the door was opened twenty minutes later.

Lawrence was a half hour’s drive from Topeka. I picked the fastest looking car in the lot and hotwired it.

I couldn’t go straight to the house. I needed to arm myself, or I wouldn’t do Dad or myself any good. Luckily, Topeka had a Sharp-Mart like every other place in the U.S. I pulled in, conscious of the time and the stolen car, and hustled inside. Glancing around, I sought out the signs on the ceiling to find the sporting goods section.

I took the first semi-durable looking machete they had on display before rushing to the gun case.

No one was nearby. It took several more precious minutes to find someone stocking the nearby bed and bath aisle who could send someone else over to help. By the time they arrived, I’d picked out a nine-millimeter pistol and a box of ammunition. A fake I.D., matching credit card, and no mandatory waiting period had the items in my bag and ready to go. I double timed it out of the store.

Back at the car, I paused before immediately taking off. I leaned over and grabbed the machete from the bag. Scraping the symbols I’d copied down as quickly as I could, I found myself praying that the shallow scratches would be enough to enchant the blade. When I was done, I tipped the small amount of blood I had with me along its edge.

I repeated the exercise with one of the bullets, but only one. I didn’t have enough time to make more. I was worried about the time I’d taken already.

I stuffed everything back into the sack, tightened the bottle cap shut, and took off on the last leg of my journey. Despite the fact I’d been travelling over six hours after a sleepless night, I was wide awake as I went as fast as I dared down the highway.

I reached Lawrence in almost no time. Or so it felt like. My first stop was a gas station and the map displays. Once I had a map of the area, it was just a matter of finding the Rose Lane, which was less than a fifteen-minute drive from where I’d stopped. The last fifteen minutes were silent as I left the radio off. The route led me to a quiet neighborhood on the outskirts of the city.

And then I was home.

I expected nostalgic feelings at the sight of it. All the cream-colored split level roused in me was a heaviness in my stomach and a tightness in my chest even as adrenalin roused my blood and my senses.

I parked a few houses down and pulled my machete and gun from the shopping back, holstering the latter and tucking the former under my jacket. I slipped out of the car and took a tended sidewalk up to the house I’d apparently lived the first years of my life in.

There were no cars in the driveway, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything in the garage. I carefully followed the quiet walkway up to the front door. Drawing my blade, I looked down at the doorknob. I didn’t want to turn it. Didn’t want to go inside. I thought of Dad, remembered his screams, and managed to wrap my hand around it and turn.

It was unlocked. Once the door was open, it was if I was on autopilot. Machete brandished, I swept the room. The entryway and living room were connected, and apart from a few toys scattered on the floor, were empty. The toys made that coil of dread twist tighter. I couldn’t hear any children. I couldn’t hear anything. I hoped whoever lived here was away for the day.

That hope was dashed as soon as I walked into the dining room.

A man was seated at the table, but his throat had been ripped into all the way to the bone. Blood had spurted onto the wall in a long, dripping arc of arterial spray. It was the most gruesome of their kills I’d seen yet. I wondered if that was the point.

Forcing my sights away long enough to check that the rest of the room and the kitchen were empty, I steeled myself and stepped up to the body. From the lack of lines but maturity to his face, he was probably in his late thirties. Head tilted back, pale green eyes that reminded me of Dean stared sightlessly at the ceiling. Mindful of the injured neck, I slid his eyelids shut.

The door out of the kitchen led to a garage that held a minivan and a sedan, but nothing else. I backtracked and followed a hallway to find a similarly empty office and bathroom.

Instead of comforting me, the fact I found nothing made my mouth drier, my stomach heavier, my heart pound harder. All because a part of me already knew this wasn’t where I’d find them. I looked up the staircase. Sammy’s nursery. That’s where they’d be.

That’s where it began, after all.

The carpeted stairs were mostly quiet, but two did creak. There wasn’t anything I could do about it. James likely already knew I was there thanks to his heightened senses. But this was what I’d been taught to do, so I walked soft and careful, and checked all my corners.

I didn’t know which room had been the nursery. Keeping along the wall, I stopped at the first door to the right. Taking a deep breath, I turned the doorknob and slid inside.

And found the rest of the family in a children’s bedroom.

A woman and two kids, on their knees between a tiny bed and a crib, tied up and gagged. They all either had tear tracks shining down their cheeks or were still freely crying. They stared up at me, their red eyes begging for help.

I didn’t see James or my dad, but there had to be a reason he’d tied them up and left them alive. If this was part of the trap it was a good one. There was only one course of action.

I hurried to the mother, using the machete to cut her free. “Don’t speak,” I warned as she moved her hands to her gag. Eyes wide with terror, she looked me in the eye and nodded. I moved to the little boy, who couldn’t have been more than six, and carefully cut through his ropes. “As soon as I’m in the hallway, you get out and sneak down the stairs and go out the front door.” As the ropes sagged, I pulled the boy’s hands free. “You’ve seen what he is. Don’t go to the police. Not for a while. You’ll only get them killed,” I instructed as I moved onto the girl while the mother pulled her son’s gag out and hushed his gasping breaths.

“Okay,” the woman promised.

No mention was made of the man downstairs. Either they’d seen—and I hoped they hadn’t—or they’d already guessed he was dead. “Don’t look in the dining room,” I told her with a glance to the children as I cut the even smaller girl free.

Fresh tears welling in her eyes, she nodded.

Extending her arms, she grabbed both kids. She picked the girl up and held her against her side as I moved back to the door. I took another look out into the hall, making sure it was clear. In truth, it wouldn’t matter if James decided not to let them go. He’d catch them.

But there was nothing else to do.

I slipped outside and turned to nod back at the woman. She rushed out the door, the little boy following as fast as his shorter legs allowed. They hurried down the stairs and, after a moment, the front door creaked as it opened.

I blew out a breath and tightened my grip on the machete as I stared at the door across from the room I stood beside.

The door creaked as it opened, revealing what must have been a playroom. There were toys scattered all over. But all I had eyes for was the figure laying in the center of the room.

Dad. On the floor. Not moving.

“DAD!” The cry tore out of me before I ran, collapsing down to my knees beside him. “Dad!” I grabbed a shoulder, shook it. Nothing. Eyes shut, he laid there, motionless. He was so still. “Dad?” The world around me was too bright, the silence too complete. My ears buzzed as I laid my fingers against his neck.

He was cold.

He couldn’t—How was it— “Dad!” I shook him again, harder. He had to get up. He just had to.

But he didn’t.

“I thought he would appreciate dying here.”

I gripped Dad’s jacket, still rocking his stiff body. I could barely see through the burn in my eyes as I turned my head towards the doorway.

James had a handheld camcorder pointed at us. Grinning, his gaze alternated between us and the viewer.

My teeth ground together, so hard I thought they might crack as my wavering sights fell back towards Dad’s lifeless face. “You said you’d stop hurting him if I came,” I managed.

James tilted his head. “I lied.”

 _Wake up, wake up, wake up_! I rocked over Dad, hands clinging, suddenly afraid of letting go. _Wake up!_ My throat was so tight I could barely breathe, but that was good. Because I wanted to scream, and I couldn’t. I grit my teeth and held on.

But a terrible fury rose in me, such a rage I was surprised I hadn’t burst into flames. Everything was sharp edges and bright colors as I opened my eyes. I whirled around, staring back up at the monster. My stiff fingers managed to uncurl themselves from Dad’s jacket and wrap back around my weapon instead. I rose.

Delight shone from James’ face, his grin becoming even more serpentine as he fixated on the view finder. “Perfect.”

My fingers tightened around the machete’s handle, squeezing until my hand was trembling from the force of my grip. “I’m going to hack you into pieces,” I swore, voice shivering from the force of the violent fury coursing through my veins.

James looked over the viewfinder and met my eyes.

I lunged and swung. He almost winked away he moved so fast, that dark laugh slinking up my spine into my brain as he settled in the corner.

I whirled and rushed him again.

He kicked me in the gut. Air exploded out of my lungs as I went flying across the room. I hit the closet, the doors buckling and breaking inward under me. There wasn’t pain. Not at first. Just a ringing in my head, darkness surrounding me where there’d been daylight before, and a strange sense of weightlessness as I laid dazed on a pile of broken wood and toys.

“Wonderful.” I barely heard him over the buzzing in my ears. “Very visually dynamic.”

I tried to lift my machete, but realized my hand was empty. My gaze swept the room, saw the blade laying near James. Too far to get to. I reached down towards my belt instead, drawing out the nine millimeter.

I wished the buzzing in my skull would quiet as I raised the gun. I did my best to aim despite it. James sneered at the sight of it.

I steadied my wavering arm and, sighting down the barrel, squeezed the trigger.

His head jerked backwards to the strange sound of thick glass shattering. The camcorder fell to the floor as he stumbled back into the wall.

A feral growl reverberated from his chest as his head straightened back up. His right eye was gone. Black cracks radiated out from the socket. James lifted a hand and covered the right half of his face. The eye he still had was wide and burning with fury.

I smirked.

A blink and he was in front of me. He knocked the gun away when I tried to aim. It banged against the wall before thumping to the floor by the open door.

His cold hand wrapped around my neck and lifted me upwards out of the wreckage of the closet. My spine stretched and my vertebrae struggled to hold together. I grabbed onto his wrist to keep from strangling. He held me high enough that my toes wavered desperately above the carpet as I tried to find something to stand on. My lungs spasmed from the lack of air.

He brought my face right up to his. I had an eerie view into his skull where the tissue was crystalized like a pale pink geode. He bared his teeth, venom glistening as he snarled. I was sure I was moments away from my throat being torn out like his other victims.

But then, the snarling died down and James closed his good eye. After a moment, it opened back up and he smiled. “Finally.” His eye rolled to look at something behind me. “I thought you’d never wake up.” James set me back down and—still gripping my neck—turned me around. “Don’t want to miss the big debut,” he murmured in my ear before releasing me.

Despite my new freedom, I couldn’t move. All I could do was stare at the spot where Dad had been lying. Where he was now sitting, confusion pulling his brows low and his lips down as he stared back at me.

With blood red eyes.


	21. Flames

I wasn’t sure what confused Dad more. That I was standing in front of him, or that he wasn’t dead. Breaking eye contact, he lifted his hand—turning it over and staring at it. His eyes widened. Horror shone from their red depths. His hand drifted to his neck.

“How’s the throat, John?” James asked pleasantly, as if inquiring after a friend’s health.

Dad’s hand clenched over his neck before his lips pulled back in a grimace that revealed perfect white, glistening teeth. Hunching forward, he breathed hard and fast.

“The thirst is like a fire,” James said softly in my ear. “To a newborn, it’s all but unquenchable.”

Dad squinted up at James as his entire body tensed. Slowly, he began to rise.

James had a smile in his voice as he added, “At the slightest hint of human blood,” his nose burrowed deeper into my hair, “they can’t control themselves.”

My heart raced so fast I was a little lightheaded. Swallowing, I watched Dad take several careful steps closer. “Dad.”

Through a locked jaw and clenched teeth, he said, “I told you to stay away.”

I thought of his screams. “I had to come.”

Doubling over, Dad held his throat and growled. Wide, wild red eyes stared past me to James. “Let her go,” he snarled.

I could hear the answering smirk. “Where would be the fun in that?”

The low rumble coming out of Dad raised the hair on the back of my neck. He was still bent forward but eyeing us with an increasingly feral gleam.

He shot forward in a blink. There wasn’t time to gasp before he was in front of me, teeth bared in a fearsome snarl and eyes wide with pinpoint pupils. Rigid as my heart drummed frantically inside my ribcage, I could only stare, horrified. I winced as Dad’s hand shot out at me—only to blink as nothing happened.

To me.

James’ grip on my neck began to tremble as Dad pried at the cold, unyielding fingers pressing into my flesh. And he was overpowering James. As soon as the grip relaxed enough, I slipped out of James’ hold, hurrying off to the side.

The instant I was clear, Dad struck with a cross punch that knocked James’ head clean through the wall. James pushed himself out of the hole and let out his own growl—promptly silenced by a jab straight into his mouth that struck like a thunderclap.

Dad didn’t relent. Each strike of his fist was quick, efficient, and brutal. It was the most vicious beating I’d ever witnessed. James tried defending himself, but Dad either knocked his flimsy attempts at shielding his head aside or pummeled his ribs and gut. James dropped to the ground at a kick to his knee that sounded like a statue breaking in half. James shouted, but the sound cut off with a crack as Dad kneed him under the chin.

James was curled into a fetal position on the floor, dark cracks splitting his skin nearly everywhere I looked. Turned out Dad was not above kicking a monster when he was down. After a few sharp kicks to the kidneys, his last one was so powerful James went flying across the room. He slammed into the doorway before dropping to the ground.

Dad advanced, murder in his eyes. James shifted, grabbing my handgun off the floor. Dad paused. But sneering up at my Dad, James didn’t aim the gun at him.

My shoulder jerked back at the pop. Heat exploded around my clavicle, like a flame had been lit right inside the tissues. Metal scraped against my scapula with the slightest movement, while meat and tendons slid instead of stretched.

Stunned, my hand wavered above my shoulder, uncertain what to do. Shock kept me from feeling the worst of the pain except when I moved. Then the bullet and bits of bone scrape against each other, the torn ends of tendons and muscles slipped roughshod against my ragged nerves.

Soon I grew aware of a warm, wet rivulet leaking down my arm and chest. That decided me. I pressed down, swallowed back a scream as the flame turned into a sudden inferno when things squished together.

I let out a strangled breath through my nose. Strangely, I was growing cold quite quickly, except I was starting to sweat. Hair sticking to my forehead, I glared at James as he laid across the room, grinning at me.

James. Grinning. Not a pile of pulverized vampire limbs. I sought out Dad—and had the wind knocked out of me.

He wasn’t human, let alone my father. He was hunger made flesh. Darkness had swallowed his eyes. His lips were curled back in a bestial snarl. Wet teeth glimmered. Venom trailed from his mouth, dripped down his chin. He stretched his neck, nostrils flaring.

Instinct drove me. Move or die. I lunged for the door. But he was there before my foot hit the floor. I tried to feint right. Trapped in a cold vice, my arm couldn’t follow. My muscles stretched, my joint strained to hold together as he yanked me back. He pulled so hard he swung me into the wall.

The drywall buckled and cracked. My shoulder was a raw, exposed nerve that paralyzed me. The room around me blurred. I had trouble focusing on anything, even Dad. I slid to the carpet. He loomed over me, blocked the light from the window. A cold shadow blanketing me in darkness. I cringed away, held out a hand to stave him off. The hand I’d used to try and stop the bleeding.

He grabbed it and struck like a snake.

The teeth ripping into my palm I could handle. I grit mine and kicked at his head. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look lucid as he drank. “Stop!” I tried wrenching out of his hold, but his hands gripped my arm tight. “STOP!”

As if summoned by my shriek, a pillar of fire erupted in the closet across the room. The flames pulled my pained gaze, haloed by a soft orange glow to my blurred sights. The column hovered above the floor and then drifted closer.

“John,” a woman’s voice called.

But he was too far gone to respond. The closer the pillar of fire came, the warmer the room grew. Dad either didn’t notice or care. Not even the inferno could break the spell the blood had over him.

“John.”

The pillar was beside us. I could almost make out a shape within as it bent over, feel the heat against my face, smell the fire as it burned. Something like arms extended from it. They reached out for Dad—and despite the intensifying heat, he was still too lost to the blood to notice. Not until they touched the sides of his face.

Dad screamed and leapt back. Curled and blackened, bits of his stubble smoked. His skin was charred where the flames had touched. But all that began to heal even as I laid eyes on them.

I hoped the pain would end, but my shoulder felt worse than ever, and my hand was starting to tingle.

The pillar floated back towards Dad. He eyed it with the first stirrings of fear.

“John.”

At the sound of the voice, some of the fear eased. Disbelief took its place. “No,” he whispered.

The fire began to dim. As it did, I could make out a human shape at its core. As the flames continued to die down, the vision of a woman in a nightgown became clearer. Within moments, nothing of the fire remained. Instead, there was only the woman kneeling beside my dad.

He looked on—face rapturous. “Mary?”

She smiled.

I recognized that smile from the few pictures I’d seen of her. I stared, taking in the warmth in her eyes and the gentle smile tinged with sorrow. The sight of it squeezed my heart, put a lump in my throat that was impossible to swallow though I tried. “Mom?”

The machete I’d dropped earlier launched itself into the air and flew across the room as if thrown, landing next to me.

Mom’s spirit flickered, one moment facing Dad, the next appearing in my direction. “Sarah.” She flickered again, sitting towards Dad once more. “Run.”

But I couldn’t even make myself look away, let alone leave.

This time when she flickered in and out of being, she leveled a fearsome look my way. I could make out the outline of her skull as her face turned translucent. And when she spoke it wasn’t with one voice. The word reverberated with several other—darker—voices. “Run!”

Heart pounding, I grabbed the machete and, leaning against the wall, pushed myself to my feet. Too busy staring at Mom with tears gathering in his eyes, Dad didn’t seem to notice. I stumbled through the door, concentrating on staying upright. There was no way I could run. Somehow, I managed to stagger along the hall towards the stairs.

But my hand was beginning to hurt.

It started slow—a slight discomfort around the bite—like ice on my skin. But the ice wasn’t melting. It was turning colder, freezing the ragged, torn edges of the bite. It turned so cold it began to burn. And it was spreading. Seeping further out, like a spreading frost, hardening my flesh to ice. I half expected to see my skin blacken with frostbite as it bled into my flesh.

I was turning to ice, and it was excruciating. Worse than the shoulder, the bite, the drawing of my blood. My shoulder was a tiny ache as it slammed against the wall while I stumbled to and fro. My sights swam, the room bright in spots and dark in others, everything a blur. Soon I was keening, and then I was screaming. I was burning alive.

No, I realized. I was turning.

Carlisle had managed to get himself to safety despite the pain. I had to believe I could, too.

I was panting as if I’d run a marathon by the time I edged my way down the first step. The world was swaying—or maybe I was. I was whimpering by the time I was a quarter of the way down. The rest looked like an impossibly long way to go. I was burning up. The venom continued eating through my flesh. I had lost a lot of blood.

I stumbled halfway down the stairs, barely catching myself before toppling down the rest. I inched my way forward, forcing myself to move even though all I wanted to do was cut off my own arm. My hair and the back of my shirt was drenched in sweat, the front soaking up the blood from the wound whose pain was a distant echo. I still expected to see the flesh of my arm black and covered in frost.

I was about to slide to the next step when something bashed open the front door.

“Sarah!”

I could have sobbed. Edward, eyes wild, appeared at the bottom of the stairs. His frantic expression turned horrified as he stared up at me.

I was still bleeding. Still burning. I tried to take the next step, but it was as if seeing Edward sapped the last of my strength. I started to fall.

He raced up the staircase before I’d barely tipped forward, cold arms wrapping around me. Leaning against his chest, I shuddered. “It burns, Edward,” I forced through gritted teeth.

He picked me up and before I could blink we were by the sofa. He carefully laid me back down on it, his once pristine button up shirt now sporting a large blood stain where my shoulder had pressed next to his chest. He moved to shift my jacket aside to look at my gunshot wound but I stopped him with a more forceful, “My hand! It burns!”

He looked first to my left hand, the one connected to my bad shoulder. There was nothing wrong.

My other hand gripped the machete. I’d spent so much energy holding onto it despite the pain it almost hurt more to let it go. I could finally see the wound. The bite was huge. Dad had nearly taken a chunk out of my palm.

“Oh no,” Edward breathed. He straightened up. “Carli—”

He was suddenly flying back through the air, through a widescreen television and into the far wall.

James stood where Edward had been kneeling beside me. All the cracks from his earlier fight with Dad were gone. Even his eye had grown back. Those eyes now held a darkness I now recognized as thirst. He bared his teeth and began leaning down.

The agony in my hand flared as it searched for the fallen machete. Just as my fingers touched the handle, Edward was back up. He charged at James, and the two crashed together through the wall separating the living room from the dining room.

Forcing my hand to close on the machete, took several deep breaths before pushing myself up with a long, ragged groan. Then I was standing, swaying on the spot. The burn spread to my arm. I could barely walk but managed to move with jerking steps.

James and Edward crashed back through the doorframe into the living room. James had his hands around Edward’s throat. Edward growled as the two fell onto the stairs. James knocked Edward’s head into the steps so hard they broke beneath him. Edward pushed his hand up into James’ face, shoving his head back.

It was the perfect angle.

I don’t know how I managed to raise my arm or summoned enough strength to swing. My vision was wavering, or maybe I was. But something in me did the impossible.

Maybe I just hated the bastard that much.

It was like slicing through a watermelon. James’ head fell and bounced down the few steps before coming to a rocking stop at the bottom of the stairs. His body dropped on Edward.

Edward shoved it aside. “Sarah!” he shouted as he leapt to his feet.

His arms surrounded me again, and I sagged within them. The machete dropped from my hand, though I had a fervent wish to use the weapon and hack it off. But the torn muscles in my other shoulder weren’t capable of lifting the machete, let alone chopping through bone. “Dad’s upstairs,” I breathed roughly.

Edward lifted me and rushed me back to the sofa. “I’ll get him.”

“No.” I held back a gasp as he laid me back on the cushions before managing, “James turned him, Edward.”

Lips pressed together, Edward sent a worried glance up the stairs. He turned back to me. “The others are coming,” he assured me. “Carlisle will be here.”

The burn was spreading to my elbow. Looking at my arm, I expected to see a block of ice and was surprised to find flesh. I squeezed my eyes shut and groaned. “It’s too late,” I murmured. The venom was spreading. Everything it touched was changing, crystallizing.

And I was so tired. I was weightless, drifting in darkness. A part of me knew it was the blood loss, but the rest didn’t care. There was a promise of relief in that darkness. If I just let myself sink deeper into it.

“Sarah!” Edward called, his cold hand pressed against my face.

For the first time, I wanted him to leave me alone. To let me sink into nothingness. But I forced my eyes open, endured the scorching burn again, to look up at his face—brow deeply lined with worry and eyes shining with too many emotions to name. “I love you,” he said.

It was hard to feel anything beside the blazing pain. I couldn’t even take his hand. I stared up, trying to stay with him, to keep my eyes on him. But the urge to shut my eyes was so powerful, not even his otherworldly beauty gave me enough incentive to keep them open. Still, I tried.

And then we weren’t alone.

Carlisle was there, moving in next to Edward, leaning over me. “What’s happened.”

“She’s been bit,” Edward said, anguish in his voice as he lifted my hand.

Carlisle took my hand, turned it over. His hand travelled further up my arm, sliding the sleeve up. Up to my elbow, we were the same temperature. Above that, I was burning up.

“Sarah!”

Dean.

“Don’t let him upstairs,” Edward warned Carlisle, voice so quiet I wouldn’t have heard if I weren’t so close. “James turned their father.”

Carlisle let out a breath before looking over his shoulder. “Dean, help me, please.” He shared another glance with Edward before adding, “Jasper, Emmett, why don’t you go upstairs and make sure the rest of the house is safe.”

“Is she alright?” Dean appeared, standing over Carlisle and Edward. “Where’s all the blood from?!” he demanded at the sight of me.

“I don’t know.” Carlisle followed the trail of blood to my shoulder and shifted my jacket aside. My flannel was next. He must have exposed my shoulder. “It looks like she was shot.”

The world was darkening, and I was worried I’d scream if I opened my mouth, so I kept it shut. Eventually, I lost the battle with my eyelids as they slipped closed.

“Carlisle, the bite,” Edward insisted.

“I know. Dean, would you retrieve my bag from Alice, please?” Carlisle returned to my hand. “The venom hasn’t advanced too far, yet. We may be able to remove it.”

“How?”

“You must suck the venom back out,” Carlisle instructed calmly.

But Edward was horrified as he replied, “I can’t! You know I can’t!”

“You must. I need to stop the bleeding from her shoulder if she’s to lose more blood.” Carlisle began tearing my jacket apart. “Decide, Edward. But do it now.”

Cold metal touched my shoulder, but the resulting pain as it pressed into my wound was nothing beside the agony still spreading through my arm.

I barely felt Edward’s hands take mine. I was used to feeling the coolness of his touch, but that was gone. Then the press of lips around the bite.

I hadn’t thought the agony could get any worse. I was wrong.

I screamed and tried to get away, but strong hands held me down. “Dean!” Carlisle called. “Hold her!”

Another pair of hands joined the first, and whatever tool Carlisle was using began digging around inside my shoulder again.

“What the hell are you doing!” Dean shouted.

“Saving her life,” Carlisle replied calmly. “She was bitten. If Edward doesn’t remove the venom, she’ll transform.”

After a time, the agony finally began to ease. Soon, I felt nothing from my hand or my shoulder. The darkness became peaceful. I fell further within.

“Edward,” Carlisle’s voice sounded very far away. “Her blood is clean. Edward, stop.”

Without the burn, nothing anchored me to the world.

“You’re killing her!” I barely heard Dean shout.

I drifted deeper, until the darkness swallowed me.


	22. Healing Pains

The steady beep of machinery and the tinny sound of a crowd cheering greeted me. The smell of cleaning chemicals was strong in the air. A soft mattress held me, while a thin blanket that did little to chase away the room’s chill covered me.

Opening my eyes, I found a small television mounted on a wall across a narrow room. The birds eye view of a football game played on it. Beneath was a small counter next to a tall cabinet. Immediately beside me a vitals’ monitor quietly beeped as several stats were displayed on the screen. Near it was an IV stand where liquid-filled pouches and dangling tubes hung.

In a chair beyond it all sat Bobby Singer. Hunched forward, his eyes were glued to the television set. My mouth was dry, my lips cracked, but I managed a low, rasping murmur. “Bobby?”

He looked over and stood. Relief shone in his eyes as he stepped to the side of my bed. “Hey, girl.” He picked up a styrofoam cup from a nearby tray and directed its straw near my mouth. “Here.”

As soon as I took a few sips, my mouth and throat felt better. As he moved the cup away, I lifted my hand to find it bandaged. My other arm was in a sling, immobile. “What—”

“Vampires with guns,” Bobby said lightly as he set the cup back down. “What’s the damn world comin’ to?”

The pop of the nine-millimeter firing. Blood dripping down my arm. Dad biting my hand. Mom’s spirit, a pillar of fire. Edward sucking out the venom.

“How—”

Bobby glanced over his shoulder. Turning back, he explained, “Dean found you in time. Managed to get you to the hospital.”

“Dean? He’s here?” I asked, glancing around. There was a cot along the wall, but whoever was on it was obscured by Bobby.

“He went to get something to eat.” Frowning, Bobby was silent for a moment before adding, “Guess your dad got a line on the demon that killed your mom, or he’d be here, too.”

I stared up at Bobby. He must not have known Dad was a newborn vampire. What had happened after Dean and the Cullens arrived?

Bobby must’ve interpreted my silence as disappointment. He lifted his baseball cap up to scratch his head. “I’m sure he’d be here if it weren’t important.” He didn’t sound too convinced of that.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Why don’t I go get Dean. Let him know you’re awake,” Bobby finished, laying a hand on my good shoulder and patting it.

I nodded.

Bobby walked around the bed and headed to a nearby door. Before he walked through it, I called, “Hey, Bobby?” Pausing, Bobby looked over his shoulder. “Thanks.” I managed a little smile. “For coming.”

Glancing at the ground, Bobby shifted the bill of his cap again. “’Course,” he muttered. He cleared his throat and walked out.

I settled my head into the pillow and, closing my eyes, sighed.

“Sarah.”

The silken call had my eyes swiftly opening again. Edward. He stood up from the cot and moved beside the bed.

“Edward.” His cold hand encompassed my unbandaged one. Ignoring the trickle of pain that made it past whatever drugs I was on, I squeezed back. Considering what I’d just gone through, it was barely a prick of discomfort. “What happened? Where’s Dad?”

“Physically, he’s fine,” Edward replied, settling next to me on the mattress. “Emmett, Jasper, and Alice took him back to the house. He’s agreed to stay.”

Some tension left with a long breath I let out. “Good.”

“He’s very worried about you,” Edward went on after a moment.

I’d have to let him know I was awake and okay. “Can I call him?”

Edward’s brows lifted in surprise. “Of course.”

“What happened, Edward?”

“After Carlisle stopped the bleeding in your shoulder, we brought you here.”

I looked around. “Which is?”

“Lawrence Memorial. We’re still in Kansas.”

I met his solemn gaze. “You found my picture.”

“Sam did,” Edward corrected. “Alice saw your future change and we realized you had left.” His lips pressed downward, and his eyes became troubled. “Dean realized where you were going.”

“How did you get there so soon?” I wondered. “You couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes behind me.” There hadn’t been another flight out of Seattle to Kansas until later that evening.

“We had to charter a last-minute flight,” he revealed.

I grimaced. That couldn’t have been cheap. “I’m sorry.”

Edward quietly admitted. “I was almost too late.” There was a world of self-recrimination within his words. He looked away to stare at the wall, but I doubted a wall was what he saw.

“But you weren’t,” I soothed, drawing him back to me. “You saved me,” I said, lifting my bandaged hand.

Edward’s expression darkened. “I almost killed you.” The raw confession was bleak.

“You didn’t.” I stared into his eyes, willing him to listen. He looked down. I held back a sigh. A change of subject was needed. “What happened to the woman and her kids?”

My distraction worked. Edward’s gaze lifted as his expression lightened. “She went to the police an hour after we left. Emmett and Jasper took James’ body and burned it outside the city, but they’re looking for a suspect matching his description.” He frowned before adding. “They’ll want to speak to you. The hospital had to report your gunshot wound. The woman, Cheryl Miller, has already told the police you rescued them.”

“Am I under an alias right now?” I asked in a whisper, even though we were the only two people in the room.

Edward nodded. “Yes. Your brother insisted on it.” His lips pursed before he admitted. “Carrie Fisher.” At my grin, Edward rolled his eyes. “These aliases are horrible.”

“You don’t think I’m a princess?” I asked innocently, fluttering my lashes.

Edward huffed before shaking his head with a fond, warm gaze. “I think they’re too obvious.”

“You’d be surprised what people will overlook.” Act as if you had the authority and you’d get away with a lot.

Before Edward could reply, the door swung open. Dressed in the same clothes as the day that I’d raced off to save Dad, Dean looked worn and tired. There were dark shadows under his eyes, though his gaze remained as sharp as ever. He took a few steps into the room and said to Edward, “I’d like a moment alone with my sister.”

Edward glanced at me before nodding. He stood and carefully squeezed my hand before letting go. Dean moved to the side as Edward passed, carefully not looking at him. Or me.

Dean stayed by the door. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better than I should, I guess,” I said.

“Good.” Dean nodded, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets. “Good.”

I hesitated before asking, “Edward said… Dad’s gone to stay with them.”

Dean’s lips pressed tight together before he shrugged. “Yeah. Looks like.” He finally met my eyes. “Learn how to stay on the whole animal diet.”

The beeping of the machines filled the silence that fell between us. Dean dropped his gaze back to the floor. After the silence stretched out to a painful awkwardness, he looked back up. “I’m going to hit the road for a while.”

“Alone?” I wondered, brows pinched with worry.

Dean’s eyes flashed. “Don’t have a choice, do I?” His mouth twisted. “Dad can’t be around anyone for a while. And even if he could control his thirst, he can’t step outside without looking like a freaking disco ball.”

“I mean. I know I’m messed up now, but I’ll—”

“No.”

It was a quiet declaration, but certain. Final.

“Dean?”

“Look,” Dean paused and rubbed at his mouth before fixing me with eyes brimming with hurt. “The truth is… I can’t trust you, Sarah.”

“What?” I tried sitting up higher, but only ended up wincing before collapsing back against my pillow. “Dean, he said if I showed up with anyone, he’d kill Dad.”

“I’m not talking about what happened with the tracker.” Dean pursed his lips before amending, “Well, not entirely. It’s not about you going off on your own to save Dad.” He fixed me with a firm stare that pinned me in place. “Stupid as that was.”

“Then what—”

“The Cullens, Sarah.” Dean’s wounded stare burned with accusation. “You hid what they were from us. For a long damn time.”

I knew this would be coming, but knowing didn’t make it any easier. My legs shifted restlessly. “They weren’t like other vampires,” I defended. “You would’ve hunted them.”

Dean’s eyes hardened. “We’ll never know what I would’ve done, because you didn’t trust me enough to find out.” Despite the words, there was no anger in his voice or eyes. Only pain. “But even if I did still trust you, I wouldn’t take you hunting. Bobby and Dad were right. You aren’t ready.”

The stats on my vitals display began to climb as my breath quickened along with my heartrate.

Dean’s mouth fixed in a firm line before he went on. “Hunting is about more than shooting monsters and burning bones. You got to use your head.” Before I could mount a defense, he hunched forward and went on, “You left me in the dark going after that tracker. We should have come up with a plan together, Sarah. Instead, you just raced right off into a trap.” He grimaced. “And stumbling into a ghoul’s lair?” He shook his head. “If I ever took you with me, I’d be constantly worried about you doing something stupid that’d get one of us killed.”

I couldn’t meet his gaze anymore. I stared at the blanket covering me, plucked at its edge. To my shame, a telling burn began in my eyes as heat rose into my cheeks.

“I’ve told Dad about my plans,” Dean went on after a moment. “I’m going to meet up with some hunters. Not Frank, obviously,” he muttered. “Just—other guys Bobby and Dad know. But someone’s gotta keep investigating cases now that Dad’s out of commission.” He sighed. “Just—concentrate on finishing up high school, alright? Look after Sammy.”

The tears slipped freely from my eyes as Dean turned his back to me and opened the door. “I’ll call. Check in.” After a moment’s pause, he strode out and never looked back.

My heart shattered to the sound of a crowd cheering on the television. But I couldn’t be mad at Dean. He was right. I had hidden the truth of what the Cullens were from my family. I hadn’t trusted Dean. Why should he trust me? And even if I’d meant well, in the end Dad had been turned into a vampire.

That was on me.

I sucked down a breath and soaked up my tears with the bandages wrapped around my hand. After cleaning up the worst of their remnants, I let my mummified hand hover in front of my eyes. Taking in how close I’d come to being turned myself. It really should have been me, not Dad.

They were right. I wasn’t ready.

It was only a few minutes until Edward walked back into the room. Despite my best efforts, some evidence that I’d been crying must’ve remained, because he frowned as he sat by my side. “What’s wrong?”

I almost shrugged before a jolt of pain reminded me I’d been shot. “Dean’s taking off.”

Edward had to be happy with the news, but to his credit, he didn’t show it. “You want him to stay?”

“I want—” I cut off with a slight huff. “I don’t know, Edward.” To my embarrassment, the tears were coming back. I blinked furiously, willing myself not to cry in front of him.

“You want to go with him,” Edward guessed, sounding resigned.

I didn’t want to get into the fact I’d lost my brother’s trust. Instead, I settled for saying, “He doesn’t think I’m ready for that.”

Edward’s silence said more than if he’d shouted his agreement for the whole hospital to hear.

“Maybe Bobby’s right,” I muttered, lifting my bandaged hand and staring at it again. “Maybe I should just try living a normal life.”

After a moment, Edward said, “I don’t exactly fit into a normal life. If you want me to leave you alone—”

“What?” My sights flew to him, my already pained heart squeezing within my chest. “No!”

But Edward was staring off over my head, brows pinched low while his lips fell into a brooding frown. “If not for me, none of this would have happened.”

I moved to grab his hand, ignoring the how pain flared from the bite as I gripped his fingers. “Dad was tracking them. There’s no telling if James would have eventually decided to go after him.” Edward’s gaze eventually met mine, but it was skeptical. “There’s a lot of things I’ve done that I regret. Being with you isn’t one of them,” I insisted. When the skepticism remained, I softly wondered, “Unless you regret—”

“No.” Edward breathed. He leaned over me, until his lips hovered above my forehead. “Don’t worry, Sarah. I’m essentially a selfish creature.” A light kiss pressed against my brow. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His declaration healed my heart a little bit, and even my shoulder and hand hurt a little less.

“Good.”


	23. Epilogue

I wasn’t sure silver was my color.

Honestly, I wasn’t sure what my color was, but the silk gown with an asymmetrical neckline was… a lot. At least the strip of silk holding it up covered my shoulder wound. It was how far it dipped in the back that was making me nervous. Not to mention that it’s skirt was long enough to touch the ground. And I had to wear heals.

Really, the whole thing was a lot.

But I had to admit, it looked good. Alice had done my hair earlier, piling it up in a series of artful layers that lent me a very sophisticated air. It went well with the dress. I’d laid off on the dark eyeshadow and eyeliner, going with a more natural look for the evening. The dress was already an attention grabber. I almost looked like some kind of modern-day Greek goddess.

With a final twist to make sure there wasn’t an angle where the puckered flesh of my still-healing scar could be seen, I opened the door and flicked the bathroom light off. I moved into the hall—which took mindful steps on my part considering the new house was carpeted. The heels didn’t have the same firm purchase they’d had on the bathroom tile. I was careful, hand hovering near the bare wall as I moved to the steps.

As soon as I reached the staircase, my heart fluttered at the sight of Edward in a tux. Handsome never did him justice. Now it was so inadequate, I might as well call the sun hot.

From the foot of the stairs, his tawny gaze lifted to me. My pulse picked up at the look in his eyes.

Beside him, Alice hopped a bit in place and clapped her hands together. “Oh, Sarah! You look beautiful!”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling a bit awkward. I hadn’t admitted as much to Alice, but this was my first time in a dress. It was—breezy.

Footsteps moved from the living room to join Alice and Edward. Sam stopped beside Alice, wearing his own tuxedo—which actually fit despite the fact he’d probably gained another two inches in the last few months. Alice worked miracles. He smiled. “Yeah. You look really nice.”

“You too,” I replied, leaning towards the wall, hand outstretched, as I carefully made my way down the steps. I’d have gripped the railing, but my shoulder would be moving around enough tonight that I didn’t want to push it too early.

As I made it to the bottom, Edward reached for me, placing a steadying hand on the middle of my back. Which was bare. A pleasant shiver traveled down my spine where his cold skin touched mine.

Alice’s smile, already wide, somehow managed to grow as she brought up a small digital camera. “I know John would like some pictures.”

While Edward and the others tried to play it down, I gathered that Dad was having a rough time. Not just with the diet but adjusting overall to—everything. While he insisted everything was fine during our calls, he talked a lot about spending most of his time up in the mountains. I wondered if the only reason he ever came down was to call me and Sam.

Normally, I’d doubt that Dad would care about a few pictures—but Alice had said he would. So, I smiled when she instructed me to, and let her take a lone photo of me. She then took one of Sam. Once she was happy with the single pictures, she had us standing together. Finally, she had Edward stand next to me for a couple’s photo.

“Perfect,” she declared, pleased. She set her camera back into her purse. “I better head home and get ready.”

“Won’t you be late?” I wondered.

Edward and Alice laughed.

Slapping his arm with the back of my hand, I rolled my eyes. “Vampire speed. Right.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with being fashionably late,” Alice told me in all earnestness. Or so I thought before she winked.

“See you there, Alice,” Sam said.

“You too, Sam,” Alice replied brightly. She nodded towards an end table that had a small plastic container with a flower inside. “Don’t forget the corsage!”

“I won’t,” he promised. As if ensuring he’d live up to his word, he picked it up.

We walked out of the new house on Luna Drive with Alice. The Cullens had bought it for us when Dad’s old marine buddy was due to come home from wintering in Florida. Apparently, picking up a three-bedroom house in Forks—and repairing the damage to the other’s kitchen—was a matter of spending pocket change to them. When we’d offered to pay rent, they wouldn’t hear it. They already considered Dad a part of their family, and thus, us.

If it weren’t for the fact they had a bloodthirsty newborn hanging around, Esme and Alice would have probably insisted we live at their place.

I was still driving Bobby’s old Ford pickup, but tonight we were taking Edward’s Volvo. I carefully settled into the passenger seat, mindful of the dress’ skirt, as Edward and Sam got in with far more ease.

“Are you sure you don’t want to pick up your date, Sam?” Edward asked.

“Nah. Her parents are dropping her off. We’ll meet up there.” Sam’s seatbelt clicked into place.

Edward nodded and then we were off.

I was careful to keep the window up despite the fact the weather was supposed to be really nice. The clouds were still present, of course. But they were thinner than usual, allowing a little more warmth for a late spring afternoon. Not thin enough that the Cullens would have to stay inside or away from people, though.

The prom wasn’t being held at Forks’ high school, but a clubhouse overlooking the Calawah river. It was a large building for Forks. Despite its size, it had the look of a fairytale cottage. String lights had been hung everywhere—in bushes, trees, and along the club’s roof.

Several cars were already in the parking lot. Edward drove towards the distant edge, not far from the entrance, where one of several benches sat near the woods. He stopped and looked at me while addressing both Sam and I. “Why don’t you both get out here. I’ll park the car.”

“Thanks for the ride,” Sam replied, pushing open the backdoor and slipping out.

I smiled at Edward and followed Sam, who was already scanning the people standing around the parking lot. As Edward pulled off, I asked Sam, “See her?”

“No. She’s probably inside.” He ran a hand through his hair before nodding to himself.

“Don’t worry. You look really handsome,” I told him.

Sam gave a small, shy grin. “It’s just—wow. Prom, y’know?”

“Yeah,” I agreed. I’d never really expected to go to a Prom, let alone with a date. Sam was probably thinking the same.

Sam nodded and then, straightening his shoulders as if heading out to battle, marched across the lot to the doors.

Left alone, I glanced around before walking to the bench and sitting down. It gave me a good view of all the cars lined up. There was a steady beat emanating from the clubhouse that occasionally turned into a few seconds of music as the doors were opened. Behind me trees towered overhead, and ferns were scattered everywhere on the ground.

I was still waiting when a several nearby strings of lights buzzed and flickered. I heard giant wings beating against the wind behind me. From the forest, a deep, gravelly voice said, “Sarah Winchester.” Twisting around on the bench, I looked back.

A man stood under a nearby Douglas-fir.

He was older than me. Older than Dean, too. Somewhere in his mid-twenties, maybe. He wore a cable knit sweater over a button-down shirt and khakis. He was handsome, I could tell that at a distance, but not unnaturally so. Just lucky genes, dark windswept hair, and a clean-shaven face. Except there was something different about his eyes. They were the brightest shade of blue I’d ever seen, so much so they almost seemed to glow.

“Do I know you?” I asked.

The man stayed next to the massive trunk, staring at me across the distance. “No.”

Okay. I frowned at him. “Then how—”

“I come with a warning.”

My stitches pulled a bit as I stiffened at the dire note in that low voice. “A warning.” I stood up, slow and careful.

He watched, those electric blue eyes intent. “Yes.”

“Who sent you?”

He stayed silent, expressionless and immobile. There was something about it that struck me as… abnormal. Something that reminded me of the Cullens when they went so utterly still.

“You’re not human.” My voice was quiet, but my accusation still carried.

He looked away, off to where Edward was now walking back towards me, squinting at him. Studying him. After a moment, his stare returned to me. “Heaven has a message for you, Sarah Winchester.”

It took a moment to process his words. He couldn’t be serious. “Heaven?” I scoffed.

“We’ll be watching.”

A chill crept down my spine as his stare remained, intense and unwavering.

The string lights buzzed and flickered again, drawing my gaze. The sound of wings sweeping against the night pulled my sights back towards the man.

But he was gone.

I spun around, looking behind me, between the cars, and over by the clubhouse. No sign of him. I swallowed, hairs on the back of my arms and neck rising.

Edward approached as I turned back to the forest. I supposed he could have run off through the woods… without making a sound… “Is something wrong?”

I tilted my head back to look up at him. “I—don’t know.”

His brows immediately dropped in concern. “Tell me.”

“There was some guy over here. Said he had a warning for me from Heaven.” At Edward’s arched brow, I let out a nervous laugh. “I know. But he said,” I lifted my hand and made finger quotes, “’we’ll be watching.’ Then I looked away for a moment and he just—disappeared.”

“A vampire?” He wondered, stance subtly shifting into something more defensive.

“I don’t think so. He had blue eyes.”

Edward stared into the forest, frowning. “I don’t smell anything aside from the humans.” After a moment, he turned to me. “Do you want to leave?”

I considered it for a moment before shaking my head. “No.” I glanced at him with a sly side-eye. “You’ve been talking about prom for weeks.”

“It’s an important milestone,” he defended.

“Right.” I didn’t think it was all that important, but Edward obviously cared, so I went with it. Not like going to a dance was a lot to ask for. Of course, that was before Alice gave me the dress.

Edward took my good arm and led me towards the door. We both sent a glance back towards the woods before Edward pulled the door open and led me into the clubhouse.

The theme was a Monte-Carlo Casino. The inside was set up like a gambling den with a dance floor. Tables to play cards and roulette were placed all over. Music pumped loudly through a speaker system. There were several large rooms separated by open French doors. Edward and I started moving through.

I saw several of my new friends. Although things had been a bit strained with Jessica since Dean had taken off, she and Mike had ended up going together. They were having their pictures taken by a photo setup. Mike was being as goofy as ever, and Jessica seemed to be enjoying it. Eric was DJing over by the sound system with Angela standing beside him.

There was a cheer from one of the card tables. Edward and I wandered over to find Sam in front of a blackjack dealer. A blonde girl in a red dress and wearing the corsage he’d brought sat next to him, talking in his ear as he played. From the pile of chips he’d collected at his elbow he was winning.

“Hey, Sam,” I greeted once we were near enough for him to hear me over the music.

He twisted on the stool as his date looked up at us. Sam grinned. “Hey.” He turned to the girl beside him. “This is my sister, Sarah, and her date, Edward.” He cleared his throat and nodded towards the girl as he added, “This is Ruby.”

“Hi,” she said, smiling up at us. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” I turned back to Sam. “Looks like you’re on a streak.”

Sam shrugged, but his eyes were glowing with pleasure. “Guess so.”

Edward’s hand settled along my back again. “We’ll let you get to it.”

Sam nodded and turned back to the table. Edward and I wandered back through another set of french doors.

On the dance floor, I spotted Alice and Jasper on one end and Emmett and Rosalie on another. They were being given a wide berth by everyone else. From the way they effortlessly glided across the floor, it was clear no one wanted to have their own dancing skills measured up against any of the Cullens.

So, of course, that’s where Edward led me.

“I haven’t done a lot of dancing,” I warned him for the umpteenth time since he’d brought Prom up.

“Just follow my lead,” he told me as he placed his hand on my good shoulder. My heart fluttered when his other hand settled onto my hip.

He guided me slowly, far slower than his siblings. I relied on the reflexes I’d learned fighting to move with him. Edward had no apparent trouble leading. Our gazes locked on each other, and after a few turns, the rest of the world couldn’t compete with his presence. It was just us.

We danced for several songs, all of them slow or easy to dance to, until Eric put on something far faster. The other dancers began to jump up and down—some of them bumping together. It was immediately obvious that I couldn’t stay without jostling my shoulder.

Edward took my hand, and we left the dancefloor. We headed outside, to a pavilion draped in so many decorations, it was like looking at a tent made of light. There were a few couples, none of them as rowdy as the crowd inside. Edward’s hands settled back on my shoulder and hip, and led me into a slow sidestep back and forth.

The world narrowed down to him as we rocked together, like it had that first time I’d visited his house weeks ago. “Are you okay with my hair up?”

“It looks beautiful,” he murmured.

“That’s not what I asked,” I pointed out.

Edward gave that small, crooked smirk I liked so much. “I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t sure, but Alice insisted. She said it would be alright.” I was learning to go along with whatever Alice said, but sometimes I had doubts.

Edward’s hand left my shoulder long enough to sweep a finger along a wrapped-up lock of hair. “I’ve grown accustomed to your scent, Sarah.”

I smiled. “So, I’m not special anymore?”

“Always,” Edward denied, forehead bending lower to touch mine.

“I am trying to be a more normal girl,” I reminded him.

Edward smiled, brightening his eyes. “You’ll only ever be exceptional.”

“That sounds like you.”

Edward suddenly leaned forward, gently guiding me into a dip. My pulse picked up as he lowered his mouth to my neck. I shivered at the cool press of his firm lips against my throat. He slowly rose, pulling me up with him.

I had to hold on, I was almost lightheaded. Eyes full of adoration, Edward gazed down.

“Now you’re just showing off,” I breathlessly pouted.

Edward laughed, a beautiful sound that had heads turning.

I’d taken a very off-beaten road to end up in his arms, making him laugh. Not the path I’d ever planned for myself. It hadn’t been smooth going most of the time, and I had no doubts there’d be plenty of bumps and cracks, twists and turns, further along the way.

But so long as I wasn’t riding alone, I couldn’t wait to see where this wayward road would take me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to all the commenters and readers who left kudos. It was good to know people were interested in reading a story like Wayward, despite the fact its not the usual type of fanfic. When I decided to write a crossover, OC, older fandom story, I wasn't sure if there would be much interest. It made any encouragement mean all the more to me.
> 
> Thanks to the readers who left frequent comments. Especially Lunaelia. Your comments were always a joy to read, and it was nice knowing I'd have at least one person reading when I posted a chapter.
> 
> For you, the reader who made it all the way to the end, I hope you enjoyed reading Wayward as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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